#and she was like 'have you tried tricep dips' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cartierbin · 3 years

Note

hey i’m new here, i read some of your works and !! OMG YOU’RE SO TALENTED , and also i just want you to ruin me buT i’m 100% bratty 🙄 soo , for the request, can i ask jeongin!dilf au pls :((

thank you sm baby. and lmao. I got you.

『 pairing — jeongin x reader

genre — smut, + a stressed, single father dilf!jeongin fucking his masseuse

word count — 1.687k 』

smut under the cut !

out of all the things jeongin could’ve done to take away his fatherly stress, a massage wasn’t one of them. no seriously. usually, an hour or two of hitting the punching bag or doing a couple of weight reps brought him to relaxation the way he needed. but with the mother of his twin daughters refusing to help out at all with them, he was stressed more than usual. and this kind of stressed caused him to be kind of desperate.

he was clicking around on his phone before he found the place. a massage therapy building that he somehow never noticed was that close to his house. on their website at least, they guaranteed that the service they give will bring him to the nirvana that he was looking for. he wasn’t going to second guess anything no— he needed this. he kisses his babies on their forehead before sending them off to his mother’s house for the night.

when he arrived at the building he gave the receptionist his name to which she exchanged confirmation of his paid visit. she nodded, sliding her swivel chair back and reaching into the room right beside her desk to give him a towel. “you can change it the room over there love”. he smiled and thanked her, more than glad to shed his clothing and hurry on with this. for some reason he felt kind of antsy, he could wait for his stress to become undone with all the knots in his muscles and back. but once he was finished you might as well couldve said you were unprepared for the appointment. you had your materials and the table ready yes, but you were nowhere near prepared to massage a gorgeous, five foot seven man with chiseled abs, a sharp jawline in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. he smiled sweetly when he entered, you tried your best to keep your attention off the chain that sat atop of his prominent collar bones and instead focus on the client at hand. but god, your stomach was churning.

“good evening are you yang jeongin?”. you spoke meekly, surprised that you could even get a word out with how ethereal he actually was. he nods. you used a hand to guide him to the massage table and he obliged, quite fond with the decor of the place. he appreciate the fact that it was dark and you allowed candles to scent and heat up the room. he also appreciate the soft red glow lights in the corners of the room, illuminating it in a rather sexy way. he pushed the unholy thoughts to the back of his mind and started getting comfortable, trying to remember that he came here for a massage and massage only. “do you have any music suggestions? I have a soft playlist if not”. the blonde haired man shook his head no while laying his head on his forearms, giving you a perfect view of the tricep muscles in his back. you gulped, positioning your oils on the tray right beside you. you rushed to press play on the music to keep your thoughts on your job.

you shifted the towel down a bit lower and started spilling the warm vanilla scented oil down the span of his back, which already drew him in. he loved the scent dearly. he also loved the way your warm hands applied pressure to the places he needed most. a serene feeling washes over him and he could feel himself relax almost immediately. you glide your hands up the length of his back and shoulders and knead the tension and knots away, you could’ve sworn you heard a soft groan from him in response. nevertheless you continued your ministrations, feeling for other knots that needed to be worked out. jeongin could safely say that he’s hardly ever felt this kind of relaxation before. maybe he should’ve came here sooner. he makes another small noise, one that was rather suggestive, one that had you internally crumbling above him.

“feels good?”. you hum, kneading out other small kinks with your thumbs. he hums and shakes his head yes, feeling quite blissful if he might say so himself. you giggle above him, “you know, the noises you’re making tells it all”. he speaks in choked breaths. “yeah it feels— good, damn— I wasn’t expecting this”. you roam your hands around his body covering it with oil, his tan skin glistens under the red lighting. “is this your first full body massage?”. he nods again. “my first massage ever. I don’t really do this. usually I work out but I’ve been stressed like hell. I need this”. he couldn’t see you and you know it, but you pout your lips anyway. “what’s got a gorgeous man like you so stressed?”. from above you could see his eyes closed, and a small dimple depressing into his cheek as he smiled, appreciating the compliment. “a lot actually. mainly the mother of my girls”. you squeeze another bit of oil into the palm of your hands and this time use them to work the muscles along his neck and arms. you were glad he was laying on his stomach, this mean he couldn’t see the surprised expression you were making.

“girls? you have kids?”. you ask awaiting an answer. to your surprise he nods his head. “yes two of them. they’re twins. lily and lana”. he groans again, making your heart pound that much harder. you distract yourself with conversation. “wow. twins?”. he nods. “you sound shocked”. “yeah I mean... you look like you’re way too young to be a dad. I guess I wasn’t expecting that”. you laugh a little. “I get that a lot”. your hands gradually moved to every part of his upper half, giving it the attention it craved. the fact that he was a dad surprised the hell out of you. he looked as though he was maybe 19, 20 maybe. either way it goes you already decided in your mind that he was an absolute dilf. you worked in silence for the time being, wallowing in the small sounds he made and trying to keep moisture from pooling between your legs in the process. now covered in oil and feeling hands move all around his body, jeongin didn’t know how much more of himself he could help. he was growing hard at the thought of your oily hands sliding up and down his cock. the massage was great. amazing even. but he needed something more. as you edged the towel down his waist he reached back and grabbed your wrist.

“before you continue, can you do me a favor?”. your mind spun at his question. “what is it?”. jeongin breathed. “you’re really good at your job and it’s working but I think I need something more— and I’ll pay you extra just to have if it you keep things confidential between us”. by now your heart was racing. you licked your lips, the room all of a sudden becoming much hotter. “what do you need?”.

“I need to fuck you”. you gulped at how straightforward he was. but the prompt wasn’t unwelcomed. you just didn’t know what to say. he sat up, feeling like maybe he went too far. “you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to I’m just really stressed and I need to take the edge off”. you chewed on the insides of your cheeks. “it’ll be confidential..right?”. he nods. “I won’t tell a soul”. truthfully you didn’t mind being used by him, only you didn’t know how to initiate things so you stood there awkwardly. “I don’t know what to do”. you spoke in a soft gentle voice, matching the vibe of the background music. he pulled you closer to him by the hem of your white masseuse coat, taking his fingers and unbuttoning the shirt you had underneath it. your voice vanished once his lips attached themselves to your nipples, suckling them obediently while groping the cheeks of your ass. you could only throw your head back and let air flow from your lips, the feeling of his soft lips on you was becoming indescribable. the more he sucked the more clothes he took off of you. your jacket was glided off your shoulders as well as your shirt and now he was working his hand around to the button of your pants. he refused to just shed your pants without feeling you first. so on that note his hand dipped into your panties and his fingers brush against your sopping wet lips. you gasp feeling them breach you, twisting and turning inside of you trying to feel the spot that made you make the most noise. they soon found what they were looking for eliciting unholy moans from your throat. “your moans are so fucking sexy”, he growled, becoming more animalistic in his ways, licking and biting your neck in lust.

his fingers moved at an excruciating pace in the ridges of your wet hole and you felt weaker at his touch. you were so clouded you hadn’t realize that he already snatched off your panties and you were fully nude, clinging against his oily body while he was finger fucking you into oblivion. the tent underneath the towel was evident, and he acted on it as soon as he felt his tip throbbing in need. he substitutes you on the table instead of himself, removing the towel around his waist and positioning you on your stomach. he pooled some oil in the palm of his hand and rubs it over your back and most importantly over the curve of your ass, watching your skin gleam before he tosses the now empty oil bottle on the floor. he uses his hand to feel your pussy lips from behind, sliding it in between your slit whilst pressing his wet lips against your ear. “just let me use you. I won’t be long”. he made his word his bond, using a veiny hand to grip the edge of the table for leverage and shoving his dick inside you just like that. you yelped, suddenly remembering that you had to keep your noises at a low volume. he sits up and grips the cheeks of your ass, watching the rolls in your backside become more prominent the more he fucked into you. “fuckk this is it”. he groaned now taking a slower pace just so he could hear your oily counterparts slap against each other. he threw his head back and licks his lips in daze, forgetting about his life’s troubles and focusing on the way your walls clenched around him so well. you bit the leather of the massage pillow trying to keep yourself from going insane.

he was riding your ass slow and steady, rocking his hips into your pussy and admiring how much he made you stutter over your words. his body was draped over yours and his hand wrapped around your neck, necklace sweeping along the nape, gifting you low groans and curse words into your ear every chance he got. the way the table creaked each time he thrusted was an ego booster. he smirks and tongue kisses your cheeks without a care in a world for what an oily mess you both were. “you’re going to make me fucking cum, you know that?” he exhaled in the darkest voice he could muster. your eyes drove to the back of your head as his dick drove deeper into you. his strokes were painfully slow but you enjoyed each and every one of them, the tip was hitting spots that you thought only your dildo at home could reach. fire stirred at the pit of your stomach. you could feel yourself gushing with each move of his waist and it was driving you up a wall.

“oh my god”. you whined weakly, making him throb harshly inside you. he took his time to softly kiss down the spine of your back and work his way back up again to the back of your neck. It felt quite nice actually, romantic if you will. he slides a free hand over to intertwine with yours, while his tongue licks the undersides of your neck before delicately kissing those places as well. his lips landed on yours unexpectedly and he kissed you so passionately and careful you could’ve mistaken him for being in love with you. he hastens his pace while his tongue roams your mouth almost as if it were searching for something. you didn’t know what to focus on more, his sloppy tongue kisses or your much needed orgasm that was a second away from rippling through your body. either way you weren’t prepared for them both. streams of white ran down your thighs and he felt it all and groaned much louder. when he felt himself get close he parted the cheeks of your ass just so he could see your pussy getting filled with his seed, unbeknownst to you that he had a thing for cream pies.

he didn’t even give you time to relapse from it, he takes your chin and lands another wet kiss on your lips with his body still hovering over your now exhausted one. “thank you so fucking much. I’ll be booking another appointment soon”.

#jeongin smut #yang Jeongin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines

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rrazor · 3 years

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who is she? | all-japan youth camp participants

🏐 notes: takes place during the all-japan youth camp. reader is a baby.

“she looks like a dented can of corn”

is what sakusa thinks as you coo up at him, but then his cheeks pink when you giggle and suddenly it’s “she’s cute” but begrudgingly.

“isn’t she cute?” komori grins, ticking your side. you break out in a melody of tittering giggles, swatting at his hands.

“who’s she?” hoshiumi asks, crossing his arms across his chest as he stares at you. hirugami, standing behind him, waves at you, sporting a gentle smile on his face. you wave back at him, opening and closing your hand while giving him a cute “hewwo.” cheeks pinking, hirugami is overcome with a tender urge to hold you.

“oh, she’s—.”

“sakusa-san.” kageyama walks up the five of you, holding onto a cellphone. “is this yours?”

“no.” his is settled nicely into the front pocket of his jersey that sits folded neatly on one of the benches on the anterior wall of the gym.

“isn’t that—?” komori starts.

“kageyama, just go give it to the teachers,” hoshiumi mouths.

hirugami holds his hand up and looks at you expectantly. you look up at him, a small smile on your face, before giving him a high-five. he returns your smile, holding up both hands in front of you and laughing when you clumsily hit them with yours.

“we should give her to the teachers too,” hoshiumi adds.

komori turns to sakusa. “should we?”

sakusa shrugs. “be my guest.”

“they’re in a meeting right now,” hirugami says, watching as you play with komori’s eyebrows.

“well,” komori tries to move your hands out of his face with no avail. “we’re supposed to be doing stretches right now anyways.”

so they do stretches. you’re sitting on the floor next to sakusa. komori left to return his bib, hirugami dipped for the washroom and hoshiumi to talk with kageyama.

“un,” you babble, patting his calf as he stretches his triceps. you raise your arms up to copy him but lacking the proper dexterity and overestimating yourself, topple yourself backwards. clicking his tongue, sakusa supports you with a quick hand to your back, uprighting you.

“hehe,” you snicker.

he opts for something easier to copy this time, unable to redirect your puppy eyes and stretches his left hamstring with his leg up front and hand behind his foot. he looks at you, not expectantly, no but definitely with veiled interest. instead of seeing you copy him, you merely put a small hand over his foot.

you grin proudly. tucking his head into his arm, he has to keep himself from laughing at the look of triumph on your face despite your supposed failure.

“why’re ya touching his foot? and why’re s’there a baby here?”

taking a breath, sakusa steels his expression. he looks up only to see you now with both hands on his foot, one stacked on top of the other. he bites the inside of his cheek.

you make a confused look at atsumu who’s squatted down in front of you. he returns it and curiously watches as you move one hand to touch his left foot while you keep the other on sakusa.

“stwetch” is all you offer with a bright smile.

sakusa bites his tongue. atsumu gives a confused “eh?”

komori, having watched the interaction from the start, comes to sit in between sakusa and atsumu. he takes one of atsumu’s arms and, in his confusion, lets him, placing it on sakusa’s knee. taking the volleyball he initially brought over to let you play with, he drops it in the middle of the impromptu triangle he made.

“illuminati confirmed,” he finishes.

sakusa’s expression drops into one of moderate disappointment though he’s still in his initial position. seeing the camera hirugami has four feet away, atsumu brings up a peace sign though he’s still quite puzzled.

“stwetch” is all you offer yet again.

when atsumu moves to sit, tired of squatting, you topple over much like a can of corn fallen from its shelf.

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #komori motoya x reader #komori x reader #hirugami sachiro x reader #hirugami x reader #hoshiumi kourai x reader #hoshiumi x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu

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grimtwin · 3 years

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Thirsty?

Finally, after three years, I've written something else for Hiei x Botan week! I'm a dreadfully slow writer, and this was meant to be out yesterday but whatever! It's still here and content is content!

Day 1: Desire

Let me know what you think, if you'd be so kind!

Botan swallowed thickly, her mouth dry, and feeling as though the temperature around her had suddenly risen to sweltering degrees. Something which Botan believed to be quite odd considering that it was a lovely Spring afternoon and she was sitting beneath the shade of Genkai’s temple awning, high in the mountains. Yet even still, a bead of sweat trailed it’s way down the length of her neck, dipping beneath her blouse, and Botan began to fan herself with her hand, feeling overheated and flush. It was ever so strange…

A flash of movement in the temple’s courtyard drew her attention, and Botan’s eyes settled onto Hiei and Yusuke standing opposite one another, battered, bruised, and breathing heavily. They had been… “sparring”, as Yusuke called it, training for the upcoming Demon World tournament, but from Botan’s perspective, it looked more like an all-out brawl. And both men could not have looked any more than pleased with themselves if they tried to do so. Botan sighed, shaking her head; she would never understand how they could be so happy to bash one another’s brains out, but she supposed it was just in their combative nature to be proud of their own strength… or more importantly, each other’s. Not that they would ever admit that tidbit out loud of course.

Stifling a giggle at the thought, Botan watched on as Yusuke beckoned Hiei with one hand and faster than she could blink, the pair were at it again, fists flying at blinding speeds she was unable to keep up with visually. “Impressive as always,” Botan thought to herself, waiting for the pair to slow down enough for her to watch once more. From what she has been able to witness over the last few days, it appeared as though Koenma’s concerns could be alleviated in some ways at least.

With the second Demon World tournament forthcoming, tensions in Spirit World were once again at an all time high. The previous tournament’s winner, Enki, had been a benevolent soul, and under his reign, instituted a decree stating demon-kind must leave humanity in peace for the duration of his rule. However, with the very real chance that a new ruler would be crowned in the coming months, panicked whispers had begun to spread throughout Spirit World, terrified that peace between the three realms may crumble with a tyrant in charge, and the Kekkai Barrier no longer standing. And it was for that reason that Koenma had ordered Botan to oversee the former detective’s training; the prince having high hopes that Yusuke could emerge victorious, and maintain the precarious peace between worlds.

It was good news then, that after years of living a quiet life with Keiko and Atsuko in the Human world, Yusuke appeared to be just as strong as he’d ever been! It had taken him a few days to get back into tip-top fighting shape, but it was clear that Yusuke would stand just as good a chance at winning this year's tournament as any of the other known S-Class demons! And Hiei… Botan bit her bottom lip, fingers toying with the hem of her skirt anxiously; he was another matter entirely. Even just seeing him in the Human World after all this time had been wholly unexpected, but he’d arrived at the temple shortly after Yusuke had, set on “warming up” before the tournament started. And after years of continued service under Mukuro while working for the Border Patrol, Hiei had grown in more ways than Botan could have ever imagined. He was always strong of course, but now…

A sudden, thundering crash jolted Botan from her thoughts, and she snapped toward the source in a panic, seeing little more than a billowing cloud of dust and raining debris. After a moment of silence, the smokescreen was swept away by a passing gust, and Botan was surprised to see Yusuke lying flat on his back in the middle of the courtyard, the force of his impact having left an indentation in the ground beneath him. Just as she made to ask Yusuke if he was alright, Hiei dropped down from above, standing in between them and any concerns Botan may have held for Yusuke instantly died on her tongue. Her breath hitched, and goosebumps rose over the skin of her arms and neck as she soaked in the sight standing confidently before her; Hiei was shirtless. At some point during his high-speed duel with Yusuke, Botan could only assume that the sleeveless, powder-blue shirt Hiei had previously been wearing, had gotten torn from his body, the tattered remains clutched limply in Yusuke’s fist at the bottom of his own miniature crater.

“You’ve grown soft over the years Detective,” Hiei taunted, standing above Yusuke triumphantly.

“Hiei had not,” Botan thought internally, staring wide eyed at the rippling muscles of Hiei’s broad back, slender waist, and powerful shoulders. He looked as though he had been sculpted from stone and his skin gently kissed by the sun’s rays. Botan’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she absentmindedly tucked a strand of errant hair behind her ear. This darn heat...

Below, Yusuke groaned as he sat up, rubbing his jaw gingerly, and spit a wad of blood and saliva to the side before hopping to his feet. He noisily cracked his neck to each side before jumping from the pit to stand in front of Hiei once more.

“Gimme a break Hiei, Keiko’s made an honest man out of me after all,” Yusuke said with a hearty laugh, clapping a hand down on Hiei’s shoulder, “I’ve just gotta get back into the swing of things. But look at you Hiei; Someone’s finally learned how to throw a real punch! That last one actually hurt. Feels like your arm is made of steel man!”

Botan’s eyes wandered over Hiei’s “steel-like” arms, noting just how much thicker they were from the last time she’d seen him, the sealing bandages wrapped around his right arm stretched taut against his biceps and triceps, threatening to burst at the seams whenever he raised his fist. Why, she was sure even Kuwabara would be envious of Hiei’s new size and definition!

Hiei scoffed, slapping away Yusuke’s hand.

“Had you stayed in Demon World, you may have become a more worthy challenge. You’ll waste away here.”

“Don’t you worry about me half-pint, when the time comes, I’ll be sure to kick your ass just like I used to,” Yusuke replied cheekily, waving Hiei’s ruined shirt between them, “If I can take this off you, I’m not as rusty as I think I am.”

Half-pint? Botan was astounded that Yusuke had the gall to even label Hiei such a thing, especially now that they practically stood eye to eye with one another. Sure, Yusuke was still fractionally taller, the pointed tips of Hiei’s hair not included in his height, but Botan was genuinely curious to know if Yusuke had noticed his former comrade had grown nearly a full foot since their last meeting. Because she certainly had... Botan even noticed that the once baggy clothing Hiei used to wear fit much more snugly on his frame, the black material of his trousers clinging shapely to his rear end and thighs, and now only needing one belt to keep them fixed into place! Another wave of heat passed over Botan once more, and she hurriedly fanned herself, trying to find some reprieve in her manufactured breeze.

Hiei snatched the shredded fabric out of Yusuke’s outstretched hand, and with a flare of dark energy, reduced it to cinders.

“Demon World won’t have just been sitting back, cooking noodles until the next tournament rolls around Yusuke,” Hiei bit back sharply, “Countless demons want your head. Either you rise to the occasion, or they will take it.”

“Aww Hiei, is that why you’re here?” Yusuke replied with faux surprise, trying to contain his building laughter, “Cause you’re worried about little ol’ me? I always knew you were a softie Hiei!”

“Fool. Go back to your hole.” Hiei growled, turning from Yusuke and beginning to stalk toward the forest.

“Hey,” Yusuke called out, sounding more genuine and serious, “You came all the way here to give me the kick in the ass I needed to get back on to your level... so thanks Hiei, I appreciate it. I’ll be ready for the tournament, you can count on it. No way I’m dying before I beat your ass again.”

Hiei stopped and looked back over his shoulder at Yusuke, an unreadable expression across his face.

“Hn. There won’t be any mirrors to save you next time Yusuke.”

Yusuke broke into a wide grin and threw himself at Hiei playfully, “Love you too Shnookums!”

Botan let out a gasp, hands flying to her cheeks and her eyes sparkling, too distracted by her own thoughts to notice Hiei dodging Yusuke’s advances in the courtyard, “Was Hiei always so kind and considerate!?” Botan asked herself incredulously.

Of course, she had always known Hiei to be a swell guy who held an obvious soft spot for Yukina, but this was the first time she had ever seen him go to such lengths to help out another person. Well, without being coerced into doing so that is. But still, it warmed her heart to witness first hand that Hiei truly did care for his friends and seemed to have grown comfortable enough to express those feelings in his own, awkward way. “Perhaps not in so many words... but actions always did speak louder for Hiei,” Botan thought with a giggle. Why, it was almost like Hiei had become a completely new man, and warmth blossomed in her chest realizing just how far he’d grown from being the nasty little criminal she had first met all those years ago. His maturation, both physically and emotionally, was really quite… attractive.

Botan could practically feel the heat rising from her cheeks and she buried her face into her hands as the realization dawned upon her; she was totally into Hiei!

Where had this come from and how could it have happened after so many years apart!? They had never been particularly close and she could practically count their personal interactions on both hands. She had always admired Hiei’s strength and reliability, but that certainly couldn’t have been enough to evoke these feelings, right? Botan peeked through her fingers over at Hiei, finding both he and Yusuke chatting about something that she couldn’t quite make out, but she glued her eyes to the fire demon, studying every aspect of him, searching for clues.

Hiei was an incredibly handsome man, and always had been, she supposed... but she had never really taken notice of his looks until after his prolonged absence. Before their separation, Hiei had always looked so angry at the world, his eyes sharp and distrustful of those around him. And too often had she felt his cold air of indifference or outright hostility directed toward their group of friends in the past than she cared to admit. He’d been so rude and cruel to those around him for so long that Botan supposed it was those lesser quality traits that had kept her from seeing his more positive, physical aspects in the past. At the time, she just couldn’t imagine him being a viable partner...

But now, Botan could see that Hiei had a more calm look on his face, the hardness in his eyes replaced by warm confidence and his body language more light and open, as though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Botan smiled fondly; whatever it was that Hiei had found in his life, it had clearly been good for him. Yusuke and Kurama had always placed their utmost trust in him, and years prior, she had wondered if they had been wrong to do so, but seeing Hiei now, it was clear that it was she who had misunderstood the way Hiei viewed his comrades. Just like Yusuke once told her; they could always depend on Hiei to save their butts in the end and realizing this to be true, allowed Botan to see Hiei in an entirely new light.

And his body!

Botan gushed, wiggling in her seat as she desperately fought off the giddy squeal of excitement that rose from the pit of her stomach. He was so incredibly sexy that she could hardly tear her gaze away from him! Never before had she been so fixated on a man’s physical prowess, but everything that Hiei had going on, just worked wonders for her. And now that he had turned toward her, Botan could fully appreciate his sculpted chest and core; each pectoral, oblique and abdominal muscle clearly defined by years of hard battle and religious training. Just the sight of them was enough to drive a girl insane with wanton desire and she could only imagine how warm and firm they felt under her finger tips. Her eyes moved ever lower, and the thought of what he may look like elsewhere drifted to the front of her mind...

“Thirsty?”

A wet, frigid cold touched the heated skin of her neck, and Botan could not contain the wail of shock and panic that slipped past her lips as she jumped from her seat and into the courtyard.

“W-w-what was that!?” Botan exclaimed, spinning around to see what had touched her.

Her panic quickly melted into confusion upon seeing Shizuru standing in front of her with a pair of canned drinks in her hands, and wearing an all knowing smile. One that made Botan immediately flustered, and feel as though she’d just been caught doing something she shouldn’t have. Peeking back over her shoulder, Botan spotted both Yusuke and Hiei staring curiously over her outburst, but she hurriedly waved them off, trying to avoid eye making contact with either of them.

“Shizuru, w-what are you doing here?” Botan stammered awkwardly, pawing at the air like a kitten.

Shizuru paused before answering, staring out into the courtyard and then back to Botan, who looked increasingly nervous as the seconds ticked by in silence. Taking a seat, Shizuru beckoned Botan over, and the pair sat side by side, long legs dangling over the walkway’s ledge.

“Kazuma heard from Kurama that Yusuke was up here training for that demon tournament,” Shizuru explained, tossing one of the canned beverages toward Botan who clumsily caught it, “He wanted in, so he used that dimension sword thing of his to bring us up here; makes for cheap and easy travel you know. I figured you wouldn’t be too far from the scene, so Yukina, Keiko, and I tagged along too.”

“O-oh! Well that’s just grand! Yes! It’s been far too long since we’ve had a little get together, let alone some girl time,” Botan said, popping open her beverage and taking a sip. Tropical berries, yum!

“That’s true,” Shizuru replied in a hushed tone, throwing an arm around Botan’s shoulders and pulled her in close, “But it looks to me like you’d prefer some one on one time with Hiei instead.”

Botan promptly choked on her drink, coughing and sputtering as her drink went down the wrong way. Shizuru then gently patted her on the back until her airway was clear enough to take an inhale of breath.

“Shizuru!” Botan exclaimed, positively aghast.

“Am I wrong?”

“I-I-I… well you see... but I didn’t even... um, h-how,” Botan stammered erratically, breaking out into a nervous sweat, her face reddened in embarrassment and humiliation.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought sweetheart,” Shizuru stated smugly. “Can’t say I blame you though, Hiei got really hot.”

Next to her, Botan tugged nervously on her ponytail, and nodded her affirmation. No sense in denying what was obviously true. “How did you know? I only just found out myself.” Botan whispered meekly.

“Well, it was pretty easy, Botan. You were ogling him like you wanted to replace your oar with his-,”

“Shizuru stop!” Botan wailed, trying to muffle Shizuru’s mouth with her hands but Shizuru leaned back out of the way, openly laughing at Botan's outrage.

Botan cast a panicked glance over to Hiei, hoping that he hadn’t heard Shizuru’s crass words, but froze solid upon seeing that he was looking right at her, his crimson eyes smoldering and a seductive smirk playing at his lips. She wasn’t even sure how it was possible to be both so incredibly mortified and aroused at the same time, but the look on Hiei’s face did both to her, and she couldn’t help but shiver under his gaze, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

It was then that Shizuru leaned in once more, whispering, “Looks like Hiei’s pretty thirsty too. Why don’t you go give him a drink?” Shizuru then forced her own unopened beverage into Botan’s free hand and guided the ferry woman to her feet.

Across the lawn, Yusuke slapped Hiei noisily on the back, then jogged off with an amused cackle. Shizuru followed suit, sauntering away with a call of “Good luck,” before leaving Botan and Hiei alone to figure things out.

Botan swallowed thickly, briefly staring down at the chilled can in her hand, before returning her focus to Hiei. He... err, it was really was quite hot today... and she supposed that even fire demons like Hiei would need to quench their thirst on a day like today. Yes, she decided, there was nothing wrong with sharing a drink with an old friend. She took a tentative step toward Hiei and tried her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as Hiei began to advance on her in return.

#Hiei #Botan #Hiei and Botan #Hiei x Botan week #Shrimpy Peony #YYH #Yu Yu Hakusho

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ticklishpeter · 4 years

Text

remember when?

gfhdjbh this is so self-indgulgent. pls enjoy my second fic for diego’s day ! tw for,,,,,, pee i guess lmaoooo

fandom: the umbrella academy characters: diego & all the other hargreeves siblings!!! summary: klaus calls a family meeting; chaos ensues. word count: 1,691

The shrill sound of a bell rang through the mansion as Klaus sang out, obnoxiously loud, “FAMILY! FAAAMILYYYY!” The strong vibrato making Ben angrily cover his ears.

All six siblings met in the room fairly quickly; everyone looking either confused or tired... or both. “What is it, Klaus?” Luther grumbled, sleepily scratching the back of his head.

“I’ve been watching our little old... home videos,” he held up air quotes, “and I came across,” chuckling, he put a video tape into the small television in front of the group, “such a lovely little memory.”

A few seconds of fuzzy fast-forwarding later, the content of the tape made Diego’s stomach drop; it was an old ‘security tape,’ from when they all were 11 years old, of all six of his siblings pinning him down and tickling him to tears.

“I remember that. You guys tickled him until he cried,” Vanya exclaimed with an amused smile, watching the screen.

“Oh, he did more than cry, if I remember correctly,” Luther snickered.

Yes, they made him pee his pants from laughing so hard. No, he would never admit it or talk about it ever again.

His face began to heat up, and as soon as each and every one of his siblings glanced over at him, he bolted off of the couch and ran away; at least... he attempted to run away. He didn’t get very far before he was taken down to the floor by his giant, half-ape brother.

“NO! KLAUS! — LUTHER! — DAMMIT, FUCK OFF!!” Diego growled, trying his very best to fight off his siblings, but it was six to one, and practically hopeless. And he knew exactly what was about to happen.

Luther managed to grab Diego’s upper arms, pinning them to the floor, as Klaus and Vanya each straddled a thigh. Leaving Allison, Five, and, while only visible to Klaus, Ben standing by; almost exactly like old times. Ben’s go-to spot used to be on the thigh that Vanya was now on, but he couldn’t help but smile at the fact that their sister was finally getting herself involved.

Allison took no time to start poking around at his stomach with two index fingers, and Diego’s tough facade lasted about two seconds before he fell into a fit of gasps and yelps, trying not to laugh. “No! It —” His voice was strained and rather high-pitched.

“What? Does it tickle? Huh? Does it tickle, Diego?” Allison cooed in her best baby voice as she wiggled one nail around the surface of his belly.

He tried his hardest to frown but he just couldn’t hold back the giggles that were flooding out of him. It was just one finger, and no one else was doing anything except watching him; why the fuck was he so giggly already?

“I-it doesn’t! It doesn’t t-tick —” he stifled a laugh and squirmed, angling his body away from Allison’s finger ever so slightly.

“It doesn’t what?” Adding her other pointer finger, she poked and scratched around his abs.

“D-doesn’t... t-tickle! Shut up!” he squeaked, saying the word made the dam break again as his shoulders began to bounce.

As Diego gasped through his laughter, trying to keep it quiet, Five kneeled down to his other side, squeezing at his ribcage. “C’mon Diego, laugh it up, you know you want to,” his menacing smile and teasing words catching Diego off-guard; he wasn’t used to Five being in such a mood.

“S-s-stooop,” he whined, almost akin to a toddler about to snitch to their mom. Giggling into his shoulder, he felt his face begin to heat up.

As if he wasn’t about to scream already, Ben reached over Allison’s shoulder, lifted Diego’s shirt only slightly and wiggled a few fingers in and around Diego’s bellybutton.

“NO!” You’d think he was being stabbed by one of his knives with how loud he screamed, and how violently he’d flinched.

Five and Allison looked confused for a second before Klaus’ voice piped up, “Ooh, Ben’s getting the tickle button!” They all couldn’t help but grin; of course he was. The way Diego’s face quickly reddened, and the way his laugh’s pitch heightened was enough of a sign.

“It’s! No, it’s — it’s not a ti — GAH! I-it’s not a b-b-button!” That definitely wasn’t what he meant to say; he just didn’t want to say the dreaded word.

“Pretty sure it’s called a belly button, Diego. What are you talking about?” Vanya couldn’t help but giggle with sheer amusement.

“Yeah, and it is a tickle button because every time you touch it, this happens.” Klaus reached up to poke at his navel, which resulted in a ticklish yelp and approximately 5 successive curse words.

Klaus, with his other hand, then began to pinch and squeeze at his brother’s thigh and Vanya followed suit.

“NOHOHO, — SHIT, NO!” he hiccuped, much to his chagrin, “GUYS, FUCKING — FUCK!! FUCKING STOHOHOHOP, STOPSTOP, GOD D-DAMMIT!”

Five scoffed, a dimple showing on one of his cheeks, “And you all say I have a potty mouth.” His squeezes moved to his vigilante brother’s upper stomach, as Allison focused on the center, her nails now also finding his navel.

Squealing as his legs shook fervently, Diego tugged on his arms with all the strength he could muster (which wasn’t much) and squirmed around as much as he could. God, this was humiliating. He was painfully aware of the squeaky and pathetic sounds he was making but could not, for the life of him, stop making them, which made his face burn.

“Aww, Diego, you sound like a big baby!” Klaus laughed, poking up and down his designated thigh in no particular rhythm, before laughing again at Diego rapidly shaking his head, now practically unable to speak.

“Don’t make any noise and we’ll let you go.” Allison taunted over Diego’s uncharacteristically boisterous squeals, spidering five nails across the middle of his stomach.

“FUCK OFF!” he yelled before quickly changing his tone after she poked a torturous nail into his navel. “OKAY, OKAY, I WON’T MAKE ANY NOISE,” he rambled, turning his head away.

“Deal,” Allison smiled, beginning to drag a single nail in circles around his tummy, slowly but surely closing in on his goddamned belly button.

A sharp exhale left poor Diego’s nose, and she wasn’t even close to the middle of his stomach yet, but he knew what was coming... and that made it ten times worse.

“That wasn’t a noise, right?” Luther genuinely asked before Allison and Klaus shook their heads. “We’ll let it slide for wittle baby Diego’s sake.” Allison mused, relishing in Diego’s reaction as he shook his head into his shoulder and scrunched his face up.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle!” Klaus giggled, clearly having the time of his life.

Five chuckled, loving the nostalgic shared moment with his siblings, “Let’s hope you don’t piss yourself again, Diego.”

“Yeah, I was embarrassed for you,” Luther chuckled, holding his arms down, still with seemingly no effort at all.

He wanted so badly to tell them all to shut the hell up, but he couldn’t because he was too busy trying to swallow any noise he could possibly make. His shoulders bounced as laughter quietly bubbled in his throat.

The closer and closer Allison’s nail got to the hole in his middle, the harder it became to hold anything in. Out of anticipation alone, a humiliating giggle escaped his lips, and with the exaggerated coos that followed, he couldn’t hold back any longer. A screech preceded bouts of giggly, adorably contagious laughter.

“Aww, already? But I’m being so nice to you!” Allison chuckled, a hint of endearment in her voice.

As soon as her nail dipped in, he was done for. But then... she added another hand, and as Five continued to pinch around the skin, Klaus and Vanya reached up to vibrate claw-shaped hands into his lower tummy, and Ben squeezed at his sides. Fucking fuck.

“Tummy attack!” Klaus screeched as the others added in some laughs, teases, and coos.

The feeling of all ten hands (one pair of which was unbearably phantom-like) all scritching, poking, and digging in to his tummy was enough to convince him that he was on the brink of death, and Luther’s fingers twitching into his triceps just added to the torture. Tears began to sting his eyes, and his cheeks began to hurt. He was a squirmy, screeching, laughing mess. And ... oh god, his bladder was getting uncomfortable.

The mixture of a snort and growl that left his mouth made his siblings laugh. “PLEHEASE,” he cried out with a wide smile, “I CAHA-” his cackles faded into silent laughter as his whole body trembled.

A cacophony of coos and teases came from his brutal siblings as they did not let up; Diego felt like the tickling sensation on his stomach was somehow getting worse.

“STOP IT! STOPIT, STOP PLEEEA —” between hiccups, he mouthed the words “I can’t, I can’t!” as he shook his head into his arm, occasionally trying to bite at Luther’s hands. “I’M GONNA P — HA!! I’M GONNA — EEK! FUCK, NO, NO, ALLISON! GUHUHUYS!” Diego’s legs bounced beneath Klaus and Vanya when he felt a huge raspberry right over his belly button. The feeling of that mixed with 50 fingers on his tummy was too much. He just couldn’t.

Diego let out a loud, more urgent sounding yelp as he kicked a leg, “GUYS! GETUPGETUPGETUP!” He would rather die admit that he peed himself again, and he didn’t have to because Vanya noticed his pants’ spreading stain first, immediately standing up and covering her laughing mouth.

“Oh my God, guys!” She couldn’t help but crack up.

The rest of his siblings laughed when they realized; Five doubling over and Klaus cackling as he stood. The second that Luther let go of his arms, Diego held one of them over his crotch and the other over his face before turning away towards the bathroom. All the Hargreeves saw was a middle finger as their ticklish brother wobbily, and angrily, stormed away. He would not hear the end of this.

#ticklish!diego #tickle fic #tua tickle fic #tua #tua tickle fic week #my fics

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annab-nana · 5 years

Text

Who Is He - Colby Brock

While at a normal day of work, Y/n gets an influx of images of what looks like Colby all over another girl. Distraught, she leaves work, talks to her best friend, and goes home to deal with her “cheating” boyfriend.

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 2.6k+

--------------------------------------------------

"I'm going on break, Mel. See you in thirty!" I say as I grab my wallet and head out the door to the food court. Melanie waves at me before I exit. Mel and I both work at a boutique in the mall called EnEx, short for Envious Expressions. I have several work friends, but Mel and I are the closest.

I make it to the food court, grab me some Chinese food, and go back to EnEx to eat in the break room. As I eat, I scroll through my phone, replying to a few texts I received earlier while I was working.

Dev: Hey! What are you doing after work? I was wondering if you wanted to go get our nails done. I NEED to get mine done bad lol

Y/n: I so would but I don't get off until super late at 10:30. How about tomorrow?

Dev: Yesssss! See you tomorrow ❤️

Then I had some messages from Colby.

Colbs💜: im ready for you to be home

Y/n: It's only been a few hours, love

Colbs💜: a few hours too many

Y/n: You'll survive. If I can be without you for all these TFIL and XPLR trips, I'm pretty sure you can be without me while I'm at work.

Colbs💜: i know, you know i love you right?

Y/n: Yes babe, you remind me of that every chance you get. I love you too ❤️

Colbs💜: well i guess i'll let you get back to work baby, see you later

Y/n: Okay bye love

After that, I started scrolling through Instagram, liking several pictures from my friends and fan stuff of Colby and me. I loved that Colby's followers weren't super hateful towards me and our relationship. In the beginning, things were kind of rough but once people realized that I'm not going anywhere and am staying in Colby's life, the hate died down. Now people make edits of me and him both together and separately. Some people even have fan pages of just me, which is still so insane to me and crazy to think about. But I love to just scroll through the ones with me or Colby or the both of us and like the pictures or videos and read the stories. Lots of the stories were so interesting and well-written and some were spot on with our personalities or things we would say. I'm still not used to all of this and I don't think I will truly ever be.

My DMs are also filled with several fans messaging me and I love to talk back with them and get to know them and if I ever get to meet them, it makes the encounter so much better. I normally check them while I'm on my break so that's what I do. However, when I open them, I am not met with the typical fans' messages. I have several direct messages from fans and other random people sending me pictures. Each one I open brings more and more tears to my eyes.

Apparently, Colby was not at Jake’s filming a video as he had told me. He was at the bar and had his arm around another girl. Some pictures had them kissing and in others, they were hugging. Not in any of them could I see his face, but I could see the wolf and moon tattoos that were inked into his triceps clear as day.

Calming myself down was the hard part. I have no idea what to do. I grabbed a napkin and dried my tears before looking at Snapchat to see my reflection. I can't stay at work and focus on folding clothes and running the cash register while these pictures flutter around in my mind. Once I made sure it didn't look like I was just crying, I walked to my boss's door and knocked.

"Come in," Janine said quickly. I pushed the door slightly open and slipped in. Janine's hazel eyes glanced up from the papers she was shuffling through to meet mine. She could tell something was up with me and gestured towards the chair sitting in front of her desk

"What's wrong y/n?" Janine asked me as she set her papers to the side. She has always understood me, and I love that about her, even though it got on my nerves sometimes.

"Umm... I need to leave. Some personal stuff came up and I can't be here right now." I tell her in hopes she'll understand. She gives me a sad look before nodding her head.

"You can go. I'll call Sadie or Gracey to see if they can cover you and if they can't, I will. Do you want to tell me what's going on or do you want to head on home?" Her sweet voice asks me. I give her a small smile as I stand up.

"I'm going to go home now, but I'll tell you about it next week. Thank you," I say as she stands, and we hug. We say goodbye and I gather my things.

"Where do you think you're going?" I hear Mel chuckle from behind me.

"I'm going to Xepher's because my boyfriend is a piece of shit," I confess to her.

"Woah, what the fuck happened?" Mel grabs my shoulder to turn me around and the tears fill my eyes once again. I pull out my phone and show her the pictures. Her eyes widen as she goes through them all and then she turns my phone off.

"Oh y/n," she whispers before pulling me into her embrace. Her comforting hand runs up and down my back and we pull away from each other. "I've got to head back but go to Xepher's. Tell her I said hey and dump that loser. Love you, girl!" I hug her and grab my stuff before walking to my car.

Once I'm in my car, I let the tears flow as I make my way to my best friend's house. I pull in and walk to her door. My hand knocks against the wood door and my friend comes to it in response.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" She asked as she saw my tear-stained face and pulled me into her apartment. We walked into her living room where Griffin was.

"What happened?" Griffin asked as Xeph sat me down between the two. I explained everything to them and showed them the pictures. There was no denying that it was Colby in the photos.

"It's obvious that Colby doesn't appreciate you. You deserve so much better," Griffin told me as he wrapped his arms around me, comforting my sobbing self.

"I thought I had a good one, but Xeph, you have the best one out there. Don't let anything happen to him." The two chuckle at my response before getting serious again.

"So, what are you going to do?" Xepher asked me, grabbing my hand and rubbing the back of it with her thumb. I shrugged.

"I don't know. I kind of want to wait it out to see how long he is going to lie to me about it. But if he doesn't say anything in the next few days, then I'm just going to disappear for a week and get a much-needed vacation or something." Xepher gives me an understanding nod before I stand up.

"I'm going to head home now. It's about time for me to come home from work anyway. Wish me luck guys." I say before hugging them both and leaving to take the dreaded journey home.

I walk into my shared apartment with Colby and set my keys down on the counter. The house appears to be empty which makes me even angrier. Who is he out with now without me knowing? I walk past the living room and head to the bedroom.

"Y/n!" I hear Colby's voice ring from the office room. His footsteps approach me, and I feel his arms wrap around my waist and he plants tiny kisses all over the side of my face and neck. I almost forget everything and reciprocate the same feelings, but I hold back.

"Hey, I had a bad day at work and I really just want to shower and go to bed. Sorry, love," I tell him as I pull his arms away from me and walk into the bathroom. He follows and leans against the doorframe.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" He asks me, concern laced in this deep voice. I roll my eyes to myself and turn around to face him.

"Not right now. Maybe later?" I say and he nods. I close the door and turn to face my reflection in the mirror. I felt like I had no more tears left in me and I just looked sad. I stripped my clothes and took a long hot shower. I wrapped myself up in a towel and walked into our bedroom to find something to sleep in. Normally, I would wear one of Colby's shirts and some underwear to bed, but I decided to wear one of my oversized shirts and a pair of shorts. I left to go back to the bathroom and brushed through my hair. Then, I went back to our room and climbed into bed. As soon as I did, I heard his footsteps. I felt the bed dip next to me and soon, his arms found their way around my waist.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about what happened at work today?" Colby whispers in my ear as his hand rubs up and down my side.

"Yes Colby," I reply as I roll onto my stomach, attempting to fall asleep. I feel Colby scoot closer to me and whisper, "I know what will cheer you up."

That sentence is followed by the sensation of a pair of lips against my neck. I tried my best to ignore it, but that proved to be harder than I thought. I couldn't help the way he made me feel and right now, I hate myself for it. His trail of kisses traveled from my neck up to my cheek until they got close to my mouth.

"Colby, I don't want to do this right now," I mumble against his lips. He pulled away from me, sadness and confusion evident upon his face.

"Did I do something? I don't know why, but I'm getting this feeling that you're mad at me," Colby admitted. I rolled my eyes and let out an annoyed huff.

"Well gee, I wonder what gave you that impression," I responded, hearing the immense amount of sarcasm rolling off my tongue. The bitch in me was coming out, but the douche bag in him came out last night when his dumb ass cheated. The level of anger in me was at an all-time high. I don't think I ever been this angry and hurt by someone and the sad thing is that I thought Colby was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

"Y/n?" I hear his voice call out to me. I sit up and turn around to face him as I watch his face grow sad as he stares at me. A few tears had disobeyed me and fallen out of my eyes anyway.

"Why?" I ask him sincerely as the tears stream down. He reaches for my hand to soothe me, but I pull my hand away, placing it in my lap.

"Why what? I don't know what happened. Why you're so upset?" he questioned. That ticked me off. He knows exactly what he did. I rose to my feet and stood by the window, gazing out of it and watching people walk by. They look so happy. I wish I was as happy as they appeared to be.

"Colby, you know what you did. It's all over Instagram and everyone's been dming me about it. Don't play dumb. It's not a cute look on you." I stated. I could practically feel the anger coursing through my veins. I felt like I could actually explode at any given moment.

By the look on his face, I could tell he was taken back. I've never acted like this around him because he has never given me a good reason to. I don't normally behave this way unless someone seriously pisses me off.

"Y/n, I am being completely honest when I say this, but I have no fucking clue what you are talking about. Will you please just tell me what I did?" he pleaded. My eyes automatically roll again as I reach for my phone that was sitting on the bedside table and open the sunset-colored app. I open my direct messages which have new messages about the subject and toss it to him.

"Explain that," I demand as I fold my arms across my chest and resume my stare out the window. I hear a hum come from him and my gaze becomes fixated on him again.

"That's not me," he tells me as he places my phone down in front of him on the bed.

"What the fuck do you mean it's not you? It looks just like you. The dark hair. A black shirt with black jeans which was what you were wearing last night when you went off to... Where was it you said you went? Oh yeah, filming at Jake’s. I've been to his place and it doesn't look like that. And the fucking moon and wolf tattoos, Colby. How is that not you?" I basically scream at him.

"Did you see my face?" He asks calmly.

"No, but Colby everything else-" I start but he cuts me off.

"DID you see my face?" He reiterates. I let out a sigh of defeat and shake my head.

"No," I almost whisper.

"Do you want me to call Jake and ask him if I was with him last night? Do you want me to ask Kat if he saw me with Jake at Ralph's last night? Do you want me to dm Luke and ask him if he was at the bar last night?" Colby questions me.

"Who's Luke?" I ask him and he grabs my phone before showing me a picture that he had posted on his secret account on Instagram. The image had Colby and another guy, Luke I'm assuming, and they both had the wolf and moon tattoos on the back of their arms. From behind, they look the exact same. Well, I feel like shit.

"You don't have to call anyone. I believe you. I'm sorry. I jumped to conclusions and didn't think." I said as I looked down at the ground. I feel like such a piece of garbage. Colby walked up to me and pulled me into his forgiving embrace. There, I broke into tears. I felt so bad for just assuming that he would do that when I know he wouldn't.

"Hey it's okay. I would have thought the same thing. We look almost identical from that angle. At least I know not to mess with you now, " he laughed which got a small giggle from me.

"I don't want to lose you. That's what I was afraid of, that I had already lost you." I confess as I cry into his chest.

"Y/n, baby, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere," he says, and I pull away from him, only to go in for a kiss.

"I love you," I whisper against his lips, going back in for more.

"I love you more," he whispers back, and a blush rose to my cheeks.

"Now how about you cheer me up the only way you know how?" I whisper seductively in his ear. A cheeky grin spreads across his face and he nods. Picking up where he left off, his lips travel from my lips to my ear where his nibbles on it lightly before whispering in it.

"Maybe Luke should go out more often if it ends up like this."

#colby #Sam and Colby #colby brock #cute colby #cute colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #fanfic #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #y/n #xplr #TRAPHOUSE #jake webber #xepher wolf #devyn lundy #katrina stuart #cole robert brock #griffin jarosinski

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miyaniacs · 4 years

Note

Hello stumbled upon u hehe. A small imagine with 25. Let's go to the gym with iwa-chan ((prom setting??? Or graduating hnnnng totally up to you whatever you want hehe)) you can add anyone you likeeeee Ohhh also the genre I'd like to see would be fluff???? Or just that "comforting atmosphere" idk what im talking about :((

Hey honey!!

Don’t worry, I know what you’re talking about! ( at least I hope so haha ) ✨❤️

And thank you 😂 I hoped to get this number with Iwa since I thought about him while writing it down haha

Sorry this got longer that I originally intend to 😅 I hope it’s enough fluff

Warnings: slight mentions of bullying and fem reader ( I’m sorry it kinda matches more for the idea I got )

!!! Requests are open !!! ✨🌹

25. Let’s go to the gym feat. Iwaizumi

6pm.

You stand infront of your mirrow, a towel wrapped around your body, water dripping off your hair to the ground.

You sigh. Today’s the day. Prom. The day ever girl in your year talked about the last few weeks. “Omg y/n with whom do you go? - i think I’ll ask Oikawa ... but I heard that Tiffany from 3.2 already asked him and he said no... omg y/n. What if he says now when I ask him??” Your best friend was practically asking you the same stuff all day long. Until she finally asked Oikawa and guess what- he accepted. Why shouldn’t he. She was the most popular girl in your year. The most popular with the teachers as well the boys.

You’re happy that she’s going to prom with him! You truly are. She had a crush on him for the longest time. But her going to prom with him got you in the situation you’re in right now. Since neither you or Oikawas best friend Iwaizumi got a date for the prom- Those two idiots practically forced you to go together.

What no one. Not even your best friend knew is the fact that you had a crush on Iwaizumi. Actually since the day you saw him waking into the same gym your in and smiling at you.

6:10pm.

You started to apply your hair products, making your hair smell like tropical smoothie. Taking our your favorite lotion you run your hands around your body, feeling your muscles while putting on the lotion.

Your muscles. It’s not that you look like a bodybuilder. You just like working out and being healthy. But guess what. Boys are being dicks when they realize that a girl is stronger than they are. So they started to make fun of you.

7.pm.

You had one hour left. Going into your room you put on some make up, your earrings, your grandmas necklace which she gave you on your last birthday and put some golden hair clips in your hair to help it frame your face perfectly. Walking to your closet you took out your black silky dress and put it on.

7:45 pm.

You looked at yourself in the mirrow. Your hair shines, you nailed those winged eyeliner, your red lipstick is popping, helping you look a bit arrogant yet sexy. The black dress is low cut, showing parts of your cleavage, and had a slit on the right side going up to the middle of your thigh. Your heels click on the floor as you walk to your desk putting the lipstick in your clutch.

8. pm.

The bell rings. “Y/N there’s a certain Iwaizumi on the door.” Your mum calls out. Taking a deep breath you walk downstairs. At the end of the stairs you gaze up into Iwaizumis eyes. You could swear that they widened a bit the moment he looked at you, but that’s probably just your imagination. “Uhm.. hey” you shyly smile at him. “Hey”,he says while scratching his head,”uhm should we go?” He smiles and takes a step back to make room for you to walk outside. You smile at your mum, who winks at you, and walk outside. Before the door closes she yells “ I doesn’t matter when you come back home as long as you come back - take care of her!!!” You meantally slap yourself across the face. “I’m sorry” you mumble.

8.30pm

“Omg Y/N you’re here !!” Your best friend screams as soon as she sees you. You and Iwaizumi walk over to her and Oikawa and the four of you walk into the hall. You can already here the music blasting and people talking but as soon as they see you guys they stop talking. The first thing they all say is something about your best friend and Oikawa. Then they looked at you and Iwaizumi, who was walking right beside you, and just starred.

9.pm

You and your best friend are walking to the bathrooms while talking. “I swear y/n. Whenever you’re not paying attention he’s looking at you. He’s checking you out!” - you rolled your eyes. “You’re mistaking Iwaizumi and me for Oikawa and yourself. You honey are practically drooling looking at him.” You laugh. “ am not” she laughs “ okay. Yes. I am. But he’s still checking you out” she smirks.

Meanwhile Oikawa, Iwaizumi and some other boys are talking.

“Yo Iwaizumi, what bet did you and Oikawa made?” One of them asks. “Non?” Oikawa looks confused. “Come one you’d think we believe you that you’re here with y/n when nothing’s in for you Iwaizumi?” He asked and laughs. “ I mean look at her. Is she even a girl? she’s got arms as I got legs. You’re not afraid she’d crash you?” He laughs again, the others joining in on the rant. Oikawa keeps quiet while glancing at Iwaizumi. ‘If you’re not saying anything I’ll do it’ he mothers at Iwaizumi. “Haha come on Iwa, she promised you to bend over?”

“What?! I -“ you and your best friend have arrived to the small group and clearly heard what they’re saying. But before you could finish your sentence Iwaizumi opened his mouth:” You know what she promised nothing at all. And if you idiots opened your eyes you can clearly see that she’s a girl. Just look at her body and her face she’s breathtaking. Even if her arms are the same sizes as your legs. This isn’t embarrassing for her - rather it’s embarrassing for you. you don’t got any muscles at all. So shut your mouth or else I’ll show you what muscles can do.” The others are left speechless while Oikawa just smirks. You just stand there the words ‘breathing’ repeating in your head. Iwaizumi grabbed your Hand and pulls you out of your thoughts. He storms off out of the hall and down the street. Your best friend keeps running after you until Oikawa holds her back “ Let them have some time alone” he smirks and winks at her.

“Iwaizumi- Where the hell are we going?!” You yell and he stops looking at you smirking. “Let’s go to the gym.”

10:30pm.

You’re currently standing infront of a large mirrow next to some dumbbells still in your back dress. Iwaizumi is next to you on a bench doing some triceps dips. Thank god no one is at the gym besides the two of you, so no one asked why you’re dressed like this.

“Did you mean what you said?” You whisper looking at him in the mirrow. He stoppes in the middle of his set, sits on the bench, and drops his head.

“Yes I do mean all of this. I really think that your beautiful and the fact that your working out makes you even more attractive in my eyes. I actually switched gyms to this one since I knew you come to this one. I always tried to get me self to talk to you but ... uhm you see” he starts scratching his head again “ I was too nervous”, He admits, “So I just put more effort into my workouts whenever you were here to show off” he chuckles.

After a few seconds of starring straight at the mirrow letting the words sink in, your eyes locked with his in the mirrow.

“I like you too.” You smile and he stands up and walkes behind you. He wraps his strong arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“ I also meant that I’d really want to beak the noses of those idiots” he laughs.

“I bet you want to. But keep letting your anger out in the gym or on Oikawa.” You Joked.

“Probably also on you?” He smirks.

You turn around and smack his head while the both of you laugh. Then he takes out his phone and puts on a slow song.

“ what are you doing?” You ask as he lays his hands on your hips.

“I think I still own you a dance - it’s our prom night after all.” He smirks. You laugh and put your hands around his neck and the two of you start dancing.

12.pm.

You and Iwaizumi walk down the streets to your hous. His left hand is holding your right hand, slightly stoking it with his fingers, while his right hand is holding your shoes.

He’s currently telling you some stupid story about what Oikawa did last week, laughing and having a good time. Suddenly he takes off his jacket and puts it over you, keeping his arm around your shoulders while smiling down at you with sparkling eyes.

“I think I need to thank your best friends name.” you laugh. “Actually no - I asked Oikawa to ask her and get her to ask you to come with me tonight” he nervously admittes.

“Omg Iwa that’s so cute haha” you laugh.

“I like that. “ he smiles.

“ what?” You ask

“ when you call me Iwa.” He smiles and stoppes walking. “Where here.”

You look up and see that your in front of your house.

“So... I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 3pm? For BCAA, gym and some protein shakes?” He smirks.

“You got the Salted Caramel Protein Powder?”

“Oh sure i do!” He doesn’t and you’ll bet he’ll be going in 5 different stores to find the right flavor.

“Then it’s a date.” You smirk.”Good night Iwa. And thank you for tonight.”

“Goodnight y/n” he smiled and you walk towards your house. After a few steps you turn around.

“Iwa wait!” You hurry towards him, pull him down on his shirt and kiss him. It was short and you immediately walk back to the door leaving him standing there with a big ass grin and blush in his face. On his way home he’s practically jumping up and down because he’s so happy

1:15.am.

You lay down in your bed touching your lips while looking at Iwaizumis jacket hanging over your chair. That night you fall asleep with a smile on your face and a promise to your best friend telling her everything with every detail what happens that night.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu hc #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oikawa #iwaizumi hajime

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reidology · 4 years

Text

He Was A Skater Boy... (Chapter 2) (Hotch/Reid)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner / Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Aaron finally meet and they make a deal. Oh how the cherry blossoms.

Words: 1,575

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Chapter 2: Something Wicked This Way Comes...

It was safe to say that reading at the skatepark was now part of Spencer’s routine. Most evenings he would get to the park and read his assigned philosophy readings on top of the halfpipe, then move on to his own books. When it became too dark, he would stop reading and watch the magnificent sunset. It never got old. Here he felt relaxed. Finally, Spencer had found a safe space other than his therapist’s office. Indeed, this place belonged only to him.

That was until one evening, when his new-found comfortable routine was wonderfully disrupted by the hottest guy he’d ever seen.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer’s nose was floating around the depths of a wondrous world of murder and mystery fabricated by Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle when it happened. The sun was setting, casting strange shadows around the park, he hadn’t noticed a particular large silhouette rolling his way. Not until he heard the sound of wheels barreling toward his serene perch did he look up, and oh he wished he hadn’t , because when he looked up he came face to face with none other than the guy-with-no-shoes from days earlier.

He stood on top of the opposite halfpipe, jumped down on his board and came towards Spencer. But when he got to him he didn’t stop, simply rolled back to the other side and did quite an impressive turn-flip-trick where he spun and brought the board to his hand. Is he trying to impress me? Because it’s working, thought Spencer. The dude landed with a flourish right next to him. Spencer looked up half in shock and half in awe (because that was pretty hot). He couldn’t stop looking at his face, it was so angular and gorgeous and the light framed his face perfectly, his dark hair falling into his eyes. The definition of tall, brooding, and handsome. He died a little when the guy nodded down at him and spoke, “Sup, do you like ice cream?”

His voice was so deep . That and the fact that he was towering over him was too much for his little genius brain compute. Quantum theory he could handle, helplessly attractive men brought his IQ down into the negatives.

And how could anyone expect him to be coherent when the guy looked like that , and not just his face but… everything, from the slope of his shoulders, to the curves of his triceps, to the way his lean frame dipped into very delicious-looking calves, and finally those infamous socked feet, still shoeless. It was when Spencer had been eyeing this handsome stranger’s feet for a good ten seconds that he realized he’d been asked a question.

“Uhmm.. pardon?” Casual. Polite. Was he in this guy’s way or something?

The man chuckled sickly sweet and gave a devilish smirk, “I asked if you like ice cream?” And he lifted his hand, wherein he held a cone of what seemed to be chocolate ice cream. How had Spencer not noticed that unfairly-hot-guy-with-no-shoes was holding ice cream? Did he skate up here with that? Did he do those tricks without dropping the cone?

Either way, Spencer did not know how to respond. He was feeling very confused, amongst other things...

“Uhh… I- sure…?”

The guy grinned and sat down next to Spencer, skateboard on his lap, and handed him the cone. Spencer hesitantly reached and took it, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Hi, I’m Aaron. I’ve been watching you”,

“Oh?” Spencer immediately blushes at the thought of this stupidly attractive man, Aaron , taking notice of him. And even though Aaron had already shown the classic signs of a Dangerous Situation™ (giving him ice cream and watching him), Spencer couldn’t help but be absolutely smitten.

“Yeah, you’re always reading,” he nodded at the open book in Spencer’s lap, “what are you doing here?”

What was he doing here? “I- uhmm..” What was he supposed to say? Fuck it , “My therapist wants me to get out of the house and find a hobby.” Way to sound normal, you really hyped yourself up there, idiot.

“So you chose skateboarding?”

“What? No…I’m just studying here instead of at home. And when I finish my work I read my own books.”

Spencer could feel Aaron’s intense gaze boring into his face, he was beginning to notice that Aaron’s natural expression was a perfect dark, (sexy) , serious pout.

Aaron broke his attention from Spencer’s face and glanced beyond the boy’s lap to the satchel overflowing with books, “... you read all of those in one day?”

“Uh… actually I read all of those in an hour.”

Aaron blinked a few times.

“Really? You must be… I mean, how do you do that?”

He was sure he was going to say ‘you must be a loser’ but he tried not to think about that. So far, Aaron had been nice to him.

“Um, I don’t know. I have an eidetic memory and read a lot as a child, so I guess my baby brain just learned to process words quicker than others.”

“How quickly?”

“20,000 words per minute.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows in interest, still giving that smoldering stare. He was so very intrigued by this strange, skinny, adorable kid. From the moment he saw him hunched over, reading, engulfed in his own world, Aaron had been fascinated. And when their eyes met that fateful evening, all he could think of was I need to know him .

“So what are you studying for?”

“Right now I’m going for a BA in Philosophy.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t have pegged you as the philosphe type , smart guy like you ought to be a scientist or something,” Aaron chuckled.

That laugh would be the death of him. It was so deep and sultry, Spencer felt like burying himself in it.

Sheepishly, Spencer corrected him, “Actually, I have two PhDs in Mathematics and Chemistry. I wanted to begin an engineering PhD this summer but my mother got sick and I had to take care of her, so I figured a Bachelor’s in Philosophy wouldn’t take up too much of my time.”

Aaron gawked at him and made no attempt to hide it.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Damn. Well, here we are, a 19 year old genius and 21 year old law school burnout. Funny we’d end up in the same place at the same time.’’

The pink-orange-purple of the sky seemed to give Spencer a boost of confidence,

“Weren’t you stalking me? That’s not much of a coincidence,” he teased.

“I wasn’t stalking you, I said I was watching you. There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I came to say hi.” Aarons eyes glistened.

Spencer couldn’t help the tinge of pink on his cheeks and the small smile he gave. Aaron came to say hi. For a while they sat in silence, both considering what to say next. The older man opened his mouth to say something but Spencer took charge.

“You’re a law student? Do you go to Georgetown?”

Aaron nodded, “First year at Georgetown, did pre-law at Columbia.”

“Wow, those are good schools! I’m surprised you’re failing!”

“Yeah, Georgetown’s a lot more than I was expecting. Nothing you couldn’t handle I’m sure, Mr. Philosophy-Bachelor’s-For-Fun.”

Spencer laughed a genuine laugh, he didn’t answer though, because Aaron was right, he’d totally crush it in law school.

“You go to Georgetown, too? How come I haven’t seen you around campus? The Law Center isn’t that far from the Philosophy Department.”

“Well I don’t live on campus, I’m with my mom. And most of my classes are early morning, my therapist said that would be a good way of starting the day but really all it did for me was give me an unhealthy coffee dependency.”

Aaron actually laughed brightly at that.

“So, you’re going to tell your therapist you took up skateboarding when in reality you’ve just been reading in a skatepark?”

Spencer nodded bashfully.

“What are you going to do when she asks to see it?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Well, it seems we’re both in a bit of a predicament, huh? What do you say we help each other out?”

“How do you mean?”

Aaron smirked that same wicked smirk from the first night they saw each other leaned in, “I’ll teach you to skateboard… if…”, he bit his lip and looked into the younger boy’s eyes, “you help me pass Midterms.”

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Aaron leaned in impossibly closer and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Spencer.”

“Spencer,” He said deliciously, “do we have a deal?”

Aaron’s gaze was so intense but he couldn’t look away. His eyes were a deep, rich, coffee color with glistening flecks of green and they did not falter. This close, Spencer could see the few light scattered freckles feathering his nose and cheeks. And he was still biting his lip, Spencer stared and didn’t care. The breathtaking man in front of him was really offering to spend more time with him, how could he say no? Penelope would be so proud to find out he just had a conversation with a stranger and he was going to see him again.

“Deal.”

Aaron grinned maniacally, “Sweet.”

They sat just smiling at each other for a little bit, then Spencer asked, “By the way, why don’t you wear shoes?”

Aaron shrugged, smirked and brought his lips close to Spencer’s ear, “I like to feel the board,” he whispered.

Spencer was a goner. The ice cream had melted.

thank you for reading <3 leave some feedback/like/reblog <3

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #hotch x reid #hotch/reid #spencer reid fic #aaron hotchner fic #derek morgan #bau #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #jj jareau #jennifer jareau #david rossi #my fic #skater boy

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monstersandmaw · 5 years

Text

Male dom orc x female sub reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This commission was posted first on my patreon for the lovely @rangerofthegods. They wanted a story with a couple who had been together for a little while, but who had not yet explored the idea of a d/s dynamic, despite both being into it. Consent and discussion were major themes that both of us were very keen to promote, so here you’ll find a budding relationship featuring very much consensual d/s play between a really big orc and his short human girlfriend. I hope you enjoy!

Wordcount: 8.5k Content: consensual d/s play between an established partnership, size difference, spanking, edging, aftercare, sex, ‘sir’, and praise kink.

Finally, ‘Bresz’ is pronouced ‘Bresh’, but with the ‘sh’ voiced as in Polish, with a voiced ‘sh’ rather than an unvoiced ‘sh’... so it’s kind of szch, but not quite...?

___

“I’ll be back in half an hour,” you called over your shoulder as you struggled and flailed slightly to get out of your barista’s apron. Grabbing the huge packed lunch, you waited for your friend - and technically your boss - to acknowledge, and you swiped the cardboard carrier for the two hot drinks off the counter before bolting out of the door.

Normally, Bresz came to the cafe for his lunch, and that had been how your relationship with the big, confident, flirtatious orc had started, but today, you wanted to surprise him. You almost blushed as you recalled those early encounters where he’d shamelessly complimented you, leaning his muscular frame on the counter top while you tried not to send jets of hot steam up into your own face while making him coffee. It hadn’t taken him long to ask you out for dinner, and soon after that you’d made it official. Six months later, and you were happier than you’d ever been in your whole life.

He still liked to treat you and surprise you, even though technically he was no longer courting you. He still brought you flowers, he still cooked you frankly enormous, thankfully nutritious meals, and he still let his gang of loud, obnoxious, big-hearted orc friends rib him mercilessly for still behaving like a courting male. Bresz gave zero fucks about that, and proudly declared that he was completely in love with his little human girl, often nuzzling his tusks gently into your neck until you giggled and squirmed, and he was able to pick you up. You liked that a lot more than you let on.

But now it was your turn to do something for him, and you were determined not to be thwarted by the generous spirit of your massive orc. You raced down the street, praying you’d get to the kick boxing and martial arts gym before he left, and to your relief, the street was devoid of anyone even resembling your seven foot tall boyfriend.

Grinning, your hands full of lunch, you backed the door open and turned around, only to come face to face with a slender tiefling. The combination of her dark blue skin and the soft lighting of the reception had made her blend in with the shadows, and you almost screeched with surprise when you noticed her. “Belle!” you gasped. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” she chuckled, stepping back and taking the weight of the door for you so that you could step inside without it smacking you in the back. She wore a tank top that showed off her enviable arms, but your eyes didn’t stay fixed on her for long because Bresz emerged from the changing rooms and you almost forgot how to speak again.

“Hey!” exclaimed when he saw you standing there. His whole face lit up and he beamed a broad smile at you, thick, blunt tusks glinting, and his coppery brown eyes crinkling attractively at the corners. “What are you doing here? I was just on my way to come and see you!”

And with that, he had strode over to you and put his hands on your waist. He picked you up and kissed you, holding you aloft with absolute ease, as though you weighed nothing at all. “Oof. Careful! I wanted to surprise you,” you grinned.

“And now that I’m surprised?” he asked. He sniffed ostentatiously and his grin widened even further. “You brought food? Oh man, I’m the luckiest orc in the whole world.”

“And coffee,” you added. “Put me down now?”

He set you down and placed both his palms over his heart and tilted his head back, his long, beaded braid swinging free down his back. “My hero!”

“Knock it off, you two,” Belle laughed playfully. “I swear, it’s sickening.”

“C’mon,” Bresz snorted. “Ignore the jealousy of the loveless. Let’s get out of here.”

Belle snorted. “Don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that, Big Guy.”

He flashed her a broad smile and turned his attention back to you. “It’s a gorgeous day. You want to go to the park?”

You nodded, and he blew Belle a playful raspberry as he guided you to the door and held it open for you. Belle punched him on his colossal bicep as he passed her, and he ignored it. He was too focused on you.

He wore a loose, white tank top that showed his stunning figure and gorgeous, green skin off beautifully, and his black tracksuit hugged his bubble-butt in just the most perfect way. It was so hard to keep your hands off him. Luckily though, you had your hands full with the giant, brown paper bag of sandwiches and the carry-tray for the drinks. Well, you did, until he glanced down at you and gasped. “Shit, here, let me take them for you!”

“Bresz,” you complained. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying a bit of lunch. I know you’re a huge beefcake, but I’m not that useless!”

“Oh I know,” he said, a sweet and affectionate look dawning on his handsome, rough-hewn face. “I just like spoiling you. Please?” he said, his eyes widening.

You rolled your own at him and said, “You know I can’t refuse those puppy dog eyes. Fine.” You slammed the sandwich bag into his solid chest, and he laughed.

“You still up for our usual Friday night dinner at my place tonight?” he asked as you settled down onto the warm grass at the edge of the park. A black dog was barking and tearing around the place like a bat out of hell, and the two of you watched it while you spoke and ate.

“Of course,” you said, chuckling as the Labrador leapt into the air, twisting half way to catch a frisbee that its owner had hurled an impressive distance for ir. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, breaking off his gaze to look at you. He kissed your temple. “Just checking. You don’t always have to come over to mine…”

He was propped up on one arm, leaning close to you and casting a welcome, cool shadow across you, and you leaned your cheek against his arm for a moment before pressing a kiss into the dip of muscle at the base of his tricep. “I like your place,” you said. “Plus, you don’t fit in my bed.”

“You want dinner in bed? Or are you offering to be dinner?”

“Shut up,” you snorted. “You know what I meant. And you nearly broke mine the last time you came over and stayed the night.”

“Fair point. My place it is then.”

A shout from across the park made both of you look up, and you realised that the pink blur shooting towards you was the dog’s frisbee. Bresz chuckled and popped to his feet, catching it easily before it sailed all the way over and hit you, and sent it spinning away. The dog did a handbrake turn, screeching to change direction, and the pair of you laughed.

“Smooth,” you said when he sat back down.

Bresz simply kissed your forehead in response.

That evening when you got to his after work, Bresz was in a bad mood. It was unusual to see your orc scowling, but you knew the moment you let yourself in that something was wrong. He turned and looked at you with such an expression of hopelessness that you thought something awful had happened. “What?” you asked, ditching your overnight bag and striding over to him. “What’s happened?”

“The oven’s bust,” he said. “I had everything planned out, and when I went to pre-heat it, it just sparked and went out. It’s not a fuse, and I think it’s dead.”

Your shoulders went slack with relief, and you started to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” he grumbled.

“I’m not laughing at that, or you,” you said. “I just thought a person had died, not your oven!” you laughed. “You looked devastated.”

“I am devastated,” he countered. “I wanted to cook you something nice, and now we’re going to have to have omelet or something. Fuck.”

“We could go out?” you suggested. “There’s that nice place round the corner that you said you wanted to try.”

“Sure,” he said after a moment. “Ok. Let me get changed then. And don’t distract me this time,” he added, pointing a knuckly finger at you.

You plastered an expression of pure innocence over your face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

One thick eyebrow sailed high, and he put his fists on his hips. “Oh, don’t you?” he smirked playfully. “I distinctly remember me having to ring up the restaurant last time because you got distracted and I ended up sporting the evidence of that distraction…”

“You couldn’t do your jeans up,” you smiled. “I remember. Well, I promise to behave and be a good girl.”

His pupils soared wide at that and he turned away. You thought you heard him curse in orcish and his breathing turned a little ragged as he stalked to his bedroom to change. Interesting. Power play was always something you’d found intoxicating, and half of the reason you’d been attracted to Bresz in the first place - before you’d started going out and learned what an absolute sweetheart he was - had been the size difference between the two of you. The other half had been his good looks and confidence. You’d have been lying if you’d not spent your (admittedly rare these days) nights alone thinking about him dominating you, using that power and strength he had to hold you up one handed by the wrists, teasing you with his other hand until you were a writhing, begging mess, and just… leaving you like that. You’d also entertained the idea of being spanked too, of mixing pleasure and pain together.

You’d been standing there so long, thinking about his reaction to your simple promise to ‘behave and be a good girl’ that he had dressed and returned before you’d really registered it.

“You alright?” he asked.

You looked up at him, blinking. “You look amazing,” you said. “My big handsome orc. Come on, let’s go.”

He took you by the hand, his huge fingers engulfing yours in a gentle grip.

Deciding to test the waters and explore your sneaking suspicions that he’d rather liked the idea of your being good for him, you accepted the menu from the waiter and then immediately handed it to Bresz without opening it.

He frowned, curious, and had been about to ask what was going on when you interrupted him and said firmly but sweetly, “You know me well enough by now… Why don’t you choose for me?”

He swallowed thickly and then let out a rough exhale. “Sure. Alright,” he said, a gleam kindling in his rich, copper-brown eyes.

He didn’t tell you what he’d chosen, and you didn’t find out until the waiter returned and asked if you were ready to order.

“I think we are,” Bresz smiled. “I’ll have the surf n turf, and the lady will have the special.”

“Very good, sir,” your waiter nodded, and retreated.

Bresz cocked an eyebrow at you. In silent answer you smiled, bowed your head, and sipped demurely at your water.

Bresz reached out his hand across the table and took your small fingers in his. Your whole hand barely stretched across his palm, and you sank your teeth into your lower lip at the sight of it. “I love you,” Bresz rasped. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I think I’d be an idiot not to know that by now,” you reassured him.

He kissed your knuckles, the set of his tusks so wide that they didn’t touch your hand at all, and he seemed to relax after that. It was almost as if he felt that he’d been too eager to take you up on your offer of handing control to him, and needed to apologise, or be reassured. You were only too happy to reassure him, and you also ran your foot gently up the inside of his calf beneath the table.

“You,” he said, rolling his eyes, “Are trouble.”

“Good trouble?”

“Oh yes.”

The rest of your meal passed more normally after that, though he did take the opportunity to feed you some of his dessert from his spoon. His eyes glowed, reflecting the candle light like cats’ eyes at night, and he studied the way your lips moved around the curve of the spoon perhaps a little too closely. He insisted on paying, since he said it was his fault you’d had to eat out in the first place, and you let it slide this time.

“Next one is on me though,” you said. “I do want to keep some independence you know.”

“Fair enough,” he said, sliding his hand around yours again as you walked home.

Waiting for the lights to turn green at a pedestrian crossing, you tugged his arm and made him lean down to kiss you. You took his lower lip between your teeth and sucked hard enough to draw a deep, rumbling moan from him. “Are you trying to cause trouble?” he hissed.

“Is it working?”

“Yes, you little minx,” he laughed. “Very much so.”

“Good.”

You made it to the hallway outside his front door before he cracked. He’d just started to look for his keys in his pocket when he found you already sneaking your hand in there. He paused, surprised, and looked down at you. He cursed again in orcish, and surged forwards towards you, pinning you against the wall with an exact and careful display of strength that made your knees turn weak. He grabbed your wrists and raised your arms, holding you in place while he crushed a kiss into your lips. “Fuck,” he snarled, feeling the way your body was responding. “Fuck, look at you…”

Your brain was spinning with just how perfect this was. You’d always enjoyed the way he took charge in the bedroom, but this had a new flavour to it, and you found yourself tipping into a gentle, buzzing part of your brain that you knew all too well as sub-space. Your knees turned to water and you felt your eyelids growing heavy, your lips parting, your chest heaving.

He murmured your name, pulling back, and the moment his touch left your wrists, your arms fell limp to your sides and you let out a little whine. “We should get inside,” you managed to whisper.

He nodded curtly, and as he turned to unlock his door, you saw the tent that he was sporting in his dark jeans. He looked almost fully hard already.

Very interesting.

You stepped inside as he held it open for you to enter first, and as he closed the door behind you, you turned.

His apartment was large, open plan, with a kitchen just to the right beside the front door, and a large living area at the other end. Exposed brickwork, high ceilings, and big windows marked the building as a former warehouse, and he had divided the space up with tall bookshelves so that it didn't feel like an aircraft hangar inside. The effect was amazing, and the fact that he was a prolific reader was one of the things you had in common. You’d spent many an afternoon curled up on his battered old leather sofa together, your feet in his lap while he read. He would idly circle your ankle with his fingers and run his thumb over the arch of your foot while his eyes skimmed over the pages. Sometimes he would read passages aloud to you if he found something particularly worth sharing, and the whole thing lent an affectionate sense of domesticity to your relationship.

Now, however, he stared at you with an impenetrable expression on his handsome face; part curious, part turned on, and part… something else that oscillated between hope and insecurity.

“So, er… that… back there…” he said. “That… That felt different… somehow…”

“Mmm,” you agreed. “I…” you shrugged and then said, “I like it when you’re rough with me.” He frowned. “I don’t mean that you hurt me, you don’t and you never have; it’s just… I like it when you use your strength carefully like that. A lot.”

He tilted his head slightly, his long braid swinging behind him like pendulum. His breathing was very shallow and you could see his pulse racing at the hollow of his throat.

“What?” you asked.

Bresz didn’t respond immediately. He turned away and braced his weight on his forearms, leaning on the kitchen table. “I… I’m always wary of bringing this up. It’s been misunderstood in the past, and… what with my being an orc… I mean, we’ve already got a reputation for being aggressive, brutish assholes… But…”

You knew then what he was dying to say but couldn’t. You wondered if perhaps you should go first. Taking the plunge, you said quietly, “I’m sexually submissive. I think you probably figured that out already though. Look, I… I would be open to trying a few things if you’d like.”

From where he stood hunched over the counter, arms straight, back curved, his braid dangling down beside him, Bresz gave a great, shaking sigh. He rotated his head and glanced sideways at you with a soft smile. “Yes,” he said. “I’m not very good at admitting I have dominant tendencies. Especially because orcs get enough flack as it is. I… I didn’t want you to be afraid of me. I never want you to be afraid of me.”

You shook your head and stepped close to him, running your hands up his bare forearms to the sleeves of smart, plain white t-shirt he wore, and sliding your fingers over the bulging muscles of his biceps. You squeezed, though it was like squeezing a bronze statue, and he relaxed, straightening to his full height.

“You’ve never given me even a hint of a reason to be afraid of you,” you said. “If you had, I would never have brought this up, and I wouldn’t be in a relationship with you. I trust you. I’d like to explore this new side of things.”

“Alright,” he said. “Let me get us both a drink, and we can talk about it.”

And you did. You talked late into the night about what each of you was prepared to do and to have done, what the rules were, what you thought you might need afterwards, and perhaps most importantly, you agreed on a colour system for during any play.

It was Bresz’ idea. “Green, amber, and red,” he explained. “If I ask you for a colour, you have to give me one. Green means that you’re fine to keep going with whatever we’re doing. Amber means you need a break to think about it or to have a short breather, but you have to give me another colour soon after saying amber; either green or red. Red means we stop, no questions asked, no judgements, and the play ends. We do our aftercare, and we can talk about it later.” He paused and kissed you. “I can also call amber or red if I’m unsure or worried…”

You nodded, excitement fizzing in your lungs. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this,” you said. “You’ve given this some thought already, haven’t you?”

“We don’t have to do it,” he said quickly, eyes widening with worry. It was endearing how worried he was about dominating you and having you not like it.

“Shh,” you smiled, reaching for his cheek and asking him to move his drink out of his lap with a quick jut of your chin. He did, and once it was clear, you swung into his lap and straddled him. You stroked your fingers through the dark hair above his ears, and even though it was pulled back into his braid, you could still scrape your nails over his scalp enough to make him exhale and moan. “Let’s start slow and small. You said you like the idea of having me over your knee…”

He grunted and you felt his cock twitch beneath you in answer.

“And I very much like the idea of you using these big hands to make my skin all hot before massaging them and taking care of me. Why don’t we try that?”

“What, now?” he asked, his pulse leaping in his throat again.

You rolled your hips and he groaned, setting his drink down on a nearby table and grabbing your hips, palms wandering over the curve of your ass as you sat there, working him up already. “Why not now?” you said. “Just a little test… If we decide we don’t enjoy it or it doesn’t work for us, then we can chalk it up to curiosity, and move on.” You very much hoped that wouldn’t happen. Already just the size of his hand on your hip was making you ache for the sting and heat of a spanking.

He nodded slowly. “Alright. Alright,” he said more gently. He started to work his hands up your back in loving circles. “That it, my little girl,” he murmured. You’d told him what names you liked him to use, and hearing him use that one sent a jolt of heat straight between your legs. “My good little girl,” he crooned in your ear, his hot breath fanning over you. “If I agree to do this, will you promise to be good for me?”

“I will,” you whispered.

“Stand up,” he said, and you obediently slid off his lap and stood there while he sat, legs spread, hands resting on his thick, muscular thighs, staring up at you with pupils blown dark and wide. He cursed in orcish, and you shuddered. “You like it when I speak my mother tongue?” he asked, voice deepening slightly.

You nodded silently, lower lip slightly between your teeth.

“Well, well,” he chuckled. He said something which was clearly an order, but which you didn’t understand. You loved the way his tongue rolled behind his teeth when he spoke his own language. “You’ll have to earn a translation,” he added softly, and you whimpered.

“What would you have me do?” you asked with just a little smile.

“Fetch me a glass of water.” It was not a request, but the order was gently given, as though he were testing out the sensation of demanding something from you. “You’ve made me thirsty.”

You nodded. “Yes, Sir,” you said, and he groaned again at his newly acquired title, eyes rolling. He liked that then.

Returning, you presented him with the glass of water but he shook his head. He pointed at the floor between his parted knees. You smiled and knelt willingly before him, offering up the glass instead. “Much better,” he said, quite deliberately denying you the pleasure of being called a good girl. It seemed only fair; after all, you had not knelt immediately.

He drank from it slowly, draining the glass. Bresz then handed it back to you and told you to put it on the table and return to your knees in front of him.

You did. Each order, given with his softest, most gentle expression, sent pulsing heat to your clit and you were wet and breathing shallowly by the time you returned. This was finally everything you could ever have hoped for in a relationship with Bresz. It had been pretty perfect before, but knowing that he was willing to dominate you with consideration and playfulness was just…

You didn’t have much time to think because he repeated his command in orcish, and then leaned one elbow on his knee, bringing his lips close to yours where you knelt between his legs, and said, “I told you to undress for me.”

Slowly you drew your top off over your head, revealing the (mercifully rather nice) underwear you’d selected that morning, but he grabbed your wrist as you made to continue undressing.

“Wait.” The strength of his grip made you gasp. “Does that hurt?” he asked, concern flickering in his warm eyes.

You shook your head. “Almost.”

He paused and then carefully tightened his grip just a fraction. You watched his knuckles clench, his fingers close around your wrist, and you sagged sideways slightly with a mewl of pleasure.

“Oh…” he crooned, drawing you easily up into the air to dangle by one arm, legs limp, “You are a dream. Just when I thought I couldn’t be any more turned on by you… you go and make a noise like that. Come here,” he said, and he simply draped you across his knees and drew the rest of your clothes off by himself.

“Look at you,” he said again, circling the curve of your ass with his palm before squeezing hard enough to make you gasp and jerk slightly. “Easy,” he murmured. “Easy. I’ve got you, beautiful.”

He massaged you and stroked the backs of your thighs, letting his hands roam all over you until you were breathing deeply and revelling in the contact.

“How do you feel?” he said. “Give me a colour.”

“Green,” you said immediately, and he laughed.

And then he brought his fingers down hard over your ass cheek with a resonant ‘crack’. You gasped, more surprised than hurt, and he let it ring for a moment before rubbing a circle over it and caressing the place where heat and blood rushed in. Euphoria ripped through you a second later and you gripped his ankle, pressing your face down into his leg.

“You took that so well,” he said softly, massaging gentle circles over your backside. “So well. Look at you. It’s all hot now too,” he smiled, running the pad of his thumb over the place where he’d spanked you. “You think you can do something for me?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded.

“First, let’s get you relaxed again,” he purred, sliding his hand up your spine and back again. “Look how big my hands are compared to your little body,” he whispered in awe. “I feel like I’m going to break you all the time, but you’re so tough. You’re incredible. You’re beautiful. Look at you…” When you’d gone completely slack once more, he murmured, “Now then, my beautiful little one, you think you can count to five for me?”

You nodded.

“I need you to say yes or no aloud,” he said firmly.

The word left you as a moan. “Yes.”

“Good girl. Gods above, but you look so good like this,” he muttered, adding something under his breath in orcish. Then he bent right down over you and brought his tusks raking across your ass cheek. They dug in, but they were rounded and polished, smooth and sleek, and they slid over you, digging almost bruisingly deep without breaking the skin or truly hurting. He sucked a kiss onto your skin and played with your body a little more before beginning to make you count.

“One… Two…” you said confidently as the first two strokes made contact in a slow, searing rhythm.

“Good,” he said, and your ears buzzed at the praise.

Strokes three and four came in rapid succession and left you winded and gasping. They stung, but the pain vanished into the rush and the heat afterwards.

“Colour?” he prompted.

“Amber,” you gasped, stilling for a moment. He stroked your skin with his leathery palms but otherwise remained silent. “Green,” you smiled, relaxing and waiting for the final spank.

You practically yelled, “Five!” as the last one hit, but he immediately began to kiss you and croon praises against your skin.

“Beautiful girl,” he purred. “You’re so beautiful. Well done, you took that so well. Look at you…” and he slid his fingers between your legs, seeking out your wet sex. When he found that you were dripping down your inner thighs, he growled and let one fingertip dance over your swollen clit, circling around your folds before withdrawing. You heard him moan and guessed that he was tasting you.

“I want you,” he said quietly, returning his hand to you. You could feel how hard he was beneath you, and you knew you wanted nothing more than to have his cock buried inside you, filling you.

“Please,” you whimpered. “Please…”

“I want to take care of you first,” he said. “Can I carry you?”

“Gods, yes,” you moaned, and he smiled and rolled you carefully over before scooping you up into his arms and standing. He nuzzled at your neck and your head lolled back over the crook of his huge arm to expose your throat. Orcs, like werewolves and a few other shifters, took an exposed throat as a sign of intimate trust, and the rush of his hoarse breath fanned across your skin mere moments before he mouthed kisses across your neck until you were whimpering, rubbing your thighs together, desperate for something more. This was far hotter than anything the two of you had ever done, and Bresz, you had discovered, was good in bed.

He laid you down on his massive bed with its industrial scaffolding bed frame, and he turned you onto your front. “Here,” he said. “I’m going to get some lotion for you. I’ll be right back.”

Bresz tested to see if it stung first, and when it didn’t, he worked his hands all over the heated areas of your cheeks until they were soothed and cool.

He rolled you back over and took his time enjoying your body. You lay there, limp and gazing up at him with doe eyes. You wished he wasn’t wearing so many clothes, but somehow the pleasant buzzing in your head had smothered your ability to formulate such a complicated sentence. Luckily, he obliged anyway and was undressed in no time.

He knelt over you, his thick cock hard, pre-come beading at the top again almost the instant that his underwear was off, and you found your fingers reaching for it, trailing up his thighs with weak, gentle strokes. He stared at you and his cock twitched and he cursed in orcish. That word you did know.

“Please,” you said, parting your legs and sliding one hand down over your hips towards your centre. “I want you…”

He slipped his hands beneath your thighs and tugged you towards him, sinking his face to you and letting his tongue glide over your wet folds. He lavished attention on you, teasing circles and nudging your throbbing clit with the tip of his tongue until you thought you might just tear yourself apart with want.

“Please!” you sobbed, tears rolling down from your eyes into your hair as you lay on your back. After the euphoria of being spanked and then cared for so gently, it was too much. He took you right to the edge and then backed away, repeating the process three times until you practically screamed.

With a gentle, reassuring, and extremely playful smirk, he lined himself up, paused, and then sank hilt-deep into you in one stroke. His thick cock stretched you, his thumb swept a single upward motion over your clit, and his tip hit you so deep that you came around him with a sharp cry of pleasure.

He began to move while you were still coming. He murmured praises and told you how good you felt around him until it wasn’t long before he leaned forwards, one hand braced beside your head, and emptied himself into you with a series of deep, guttural grunts and groans. His strong muscles pressed his hips right up flush against yours, the heat of his release flooding you, as he gave himself completely to you.

It was a long time before either of you could move, but eventually his cock softened and he rolled off you. Lying on his side, he stroked the backs of his fingers over your body. “You alright?” he asked in a raw, hoarse whisper.

“Mmm,” you hummed happily, aching in all the right places. “I should clean up though.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard,” he said.

“Nor me, and that’s saying something with you as my boyfriend,” you grinned back, still a little dazed yourself.

He blushed sweetly at the praise, and you slipped away to clean up in his bathroom and brush your teeth before bed.

You returned to find him dozing on his back, one arm flung across onto your side of the bed in an open invitation to snuggle up against him. You did, draping one leg over his thighs and tugging yourself as close to him as you could possibly get.

The next morning you woke and turned over, expecting to find Bresz snoring softly beside you, only to discover that the bed was empty and the sheets on his side were cold.

You sat up, surprised not to feel groggier than you did given your usual state in the mornings, but you relaxed a little when you heard sounds coming from the kitchen. It wasn’t all that unusual for him to get up before you, and he had been known to prepare breakfast for you at the weekend on more than one occasion.

You glanced around the room and found that his t-shirt from the night before was still lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. You smiled and slipped it on, inhaling the scent of him for a moment before opening the door to his open-plan living and kitchen area.

Looping your arms around his torso, you paused when you heard how rapidly his heart was beating, and pulled back. “Bresz?”

“Mmm?” he asked, concentrating on spooning out his home-made granola onto a second bowl with some fruit. He didn’t look at you.

“Bresz, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

“Bresz,” you insisted, turning him around by the hips until he had to look at you. “Talk to me.”

He inhaled shakily and set down the spoon. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve never slept better than I did last night, and I’ve never felt better after sex than I do this morning…”

He took another unsteady breath. “Good. I… I was worried that maybe… maybe I’d gone too far. That maybe… I’d hurt you or…” He swallowed thickly. “I was suddenly terrified that when you woke up… you’d… you’d be afraid of me. I didn’t want to see that. So… I made breakfast.”

“Oh my big, sweet orc,” you smiled, kissing his solid chest. “Pick me up…”

His hands found your waist and he hoisted you up so that you could latch your legs around his hips. You snaked your arms around his thick neck and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” you said. “Sounds like a bit of dom-drop talking there. You were perfect. You didn’t go too far, we talked about limitations beforehand, you always asked me for a colour if you weren’t sure, and you gave me the best aftercare any sub could ever want.”

“Good,” he sighed. “That’s good. I… The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, I mean… for real, you know?”

“I know. You have a good heart, and that’s what will make you a good dom, I think, and an even better boyfriend. And look,” you said nodding over your shoulder at the fresh fruit and granola, “You’re still taking care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you, whether we’re playing or not…” he growled, backing you towards an empty stretch of the counter and sitting you down on it. “You stay there a moment.”

“Yes… Sir,” you added cheekily.

He chuckled and picked up a strawberry. For a moment you thought he was going to throw it at you, but instead Bresz fed you a few berries. Before you’d made any real kind of inroads into the cornucopia, however, he said, “I need you to promise me something though…”

“Ok…”

His warm brown eyes turned serious again. “If you decide you don’t want to do that again, I want you to promise me that you’ll say so. I don’t want you to do it just because you know I like it.”

You would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t sure that he was genuinely worried about putting you in a place you really didn't want to be. Instead, you grabbed hold of his shirt and tugged him a little closer. “Thank you,” you said. “But I categorically do want to do this again. As soon as possible.”

A small sound left his throat and he laughed quietly. “Well, I’m at your beck and call all weekend…”

“Surely it should be me serving you, Sir…?” you said, watching his eyelids flutter softly at your intonation.

“Alright,” he said. “If that’s how you want to play it. How about this?” he asked, and proceeded to lay out his rules for the day.

He began by demanding that you remove the clothing that you had purloined from him, and as punishment - since you had not asked permission to wear his shirt - you had to remain naked. You agreed to that. His apartment wasn’t overlooked by any other, being right on the river, and you felt comfortable enough walking around naked. You drew it off, and as you did he leaned down and took your nipple between his teeth, playfully tweaking it. He sucked a kiss over it, taking both your breasts in his hands and groaning softly as he kneaded them. Your back arched a little and he smiled and drew back.

“Next,” he said, “I want you to go back to bed. I’m going to feed you the rest of your breakfast, and you’re going to eat it like a good little girl, and after that, you cannot walk anywhere in this apartment.”

“I have to stay in bed all day?” you asked, disappointed.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. But unless it’s a call of nature, I have to carry you wherever you want to go, but you have to earn it from me first. How does that sound?”

“I like that,” you said softly. “A lot.”

“Good,” he said. “Let’s see how you earn a change of scene after breakfast then. Go on,” and he practically shooed you off to the bedroom while he finished up preparing and altering his breakfast plans slightly.

He came in and found you lying naked on your back, ankles crossed, wrists crossed lightly above your head, and he stopped dead in the doorway. He looked like his brain had shorted.

In orcish he said something, of which you were only able to make out the words ‘fuck’ and ‘beautiful’. Bresz rallied himself and knelt beside you. “Do you have any requests of me?” he asked softly.

“What if I get cold?” you said.

“Then you can ask me for something to wear, but it’ll be something of mine, and it’ll be my choice. Ok?”

You nodded.

“Words?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he said, and he let his fingertips play briefly up your calf. You jerked at the sudden touch, and he smiled, looking at your face with a slight expression of wonder. “You’re already tipping back into sub-space, aren’t you?”

He was right. You wouldn’t need much encouragement today. The warmth filled your head; that blissful vagueness of knowing he was there to take care of you, so long as you did all that he asked, and that he would never ask too much of you. You nodded and he set the bowl of fresh fruit down beside you and kissed your stomach and up between your breasts. “Let me take care of you then,” he said, his words echoing your thoughts. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

He did.

He fed you and kissed you, taking his time with you, arranging your body how he liked so that he could enjoy you and even taste you too. He used his mouth and brought you screamingly close to release before backing away again. “Not yet,” he said, leaving you whimpering. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he added, picking up the now-empty bowl and returning to the kitchen. “Don’t move, and do not touch yourself,” he said from the doorway.

When he returned, he found you squirming slightly, but otherwise well behaved. Your reward for that was for him to take his shirt off, and then you were quickly told that you were not allowed to touch him unless you asked permission first. You whined a little at that, but agreed pretty quickly, and with that, he picked you up and carried you out into the living room.

He let you rest on the couch for a moment, taking a good long time to caress you and reassure you, making sure you were well and truly into sub-space, before announcing quietly that he had some work emails he needed to look over, and that he would like you to kneel beside him on the floor while he did that. “You don’t have to do anything, but just -” he ran his palm over his thigh for a moment and said, “Just be there, and don’t interrupt me unless you absolutely have to. Alright?”

You nodded.

“I promise you’ll be rewarded though,” he smiled.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

He fetched his laptop and proceeded to ignore you for a solid half hour. Well, he might have ignored you, but his cock told a different story as you laid your head against his thigh and basked in the gentle, swirling euphoria of being there with him like this. You’d often sat on this sofa with each other in companionable silence, but this was different entirely. While your presence felt needed, necessary almost, you also burned with the desire to touch him, to make him gasp and cry out and need your touch as much as you needed his.

That, you realised, was the whole point of this exercise; to sit there and luxuriate in the quiet limbo he had created, settling into the new situation while the incentive to behave hung over you throughout the duration.

By the time he finished on his laptop, he was hard, and you suspected that he hadn’t got all that much done. He closed the lid and set it aside, staring down at you with his eyes shining. “Well,” he said. “Didn’t you do well with that little test?”

You smiled, basking in his praise.

“Thank you, my beautiful little one,” he said. “Thank you for doing that for me. Now, would you like your reward?”

You nodded and tentatively reached a hand to his thigh. He bowed his head slightly, giving you permission to touch him, closing his eyes, and you repositioned yourself between his legs, unzipping his fly and drawing his jeans and underwear off his hips and down to the floor. His cock sprang free and you thumbed an arc across the sharp cuts into his muscle above his hips. He rumbled something softly, and you licked your lips and took the tip of his cock into your mouth. You tasted his pre-come on your tongue and moaned softly, making his balls clench slightly. He bucked upwards a little but caught himself in time before you choked.

“Fuck,” he cursed, letting his head roll back into the sofa cushion behind him. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

You let your tongue play briefly with the ridge around his head, licking at his slit, before taking him as deep as you could, wrapping your other hand around the remainder of his shaft. The long, deep groan of satisfaction he let out was reward enough for your good behaviour, but soon, as you got to work in earnest, his chest was heaving and his fingers were clenched in your hair. He tried so hard not to fuck your throat, but he couldn’t keep his hips completely still.

You matched your rhythm to his, and soon he grunted that he was close. You let your fingertips tease his tightening balls, and he released into your mouth. You drank him down as he came with a bellow, breathing hard.

He reached a shaky hand down and tilted your head up. Your eyes were watering, and a little of his release had escaped down your chin. “You look perfect,” he smiled, thumbing it away. “You did so well.”

That marked the mood for the rest of the day. Since it was your first time playing together like this, he kept it relatively simple. He did indulge - though whether it was for his benefit or yours, you weren’t sure and didn’t care - in another session of spanking. He had you half draped over his left knee and half over the sofa. You were already in sub-space, so again he didn’t linger too long on praising you first. That would come after.

Each time his fingers collided with your exposed backside, your knees wobbled and you felt a heady rush sweep through you. The pain was more like heat than discomfort, but it still stung gloriously. Your ass felt like it was glowing after just a few, but then the pain began to grow with each strike until you found yourself breathless and gasping. “Amber,” you said softly - so softly that he almost missed it.

You felt the rush of air as his hand shot towards you again, but he pulled back at the last moment and stroked his fingers through your hair instead, curious and concerned. “You doing alright? Do you need a break?”

“I… I’m not sure…”

“Ok. You were doing so well for me. Do you think you can take three more? Just three more, and I’ll let you stop…”

You whimpered, not quite sure if you could take three, but you nodded.

“I need you to give me a green, and then I need you to count them,” he said, listening carefully to the timbre of your voice in your response.

“Green,” you croaked after another few seconds. “Green.”

“That’s it,” he praised. “Well done. You’re being such good girl for me, you’re taking it so well.”

The first wasn’t so bad, but the second and third hurt. Your skin was sensitive and hot, and the pain was just pushing through the pleasure enough that you weren’t sure you could handle anything else. You were hyper aware of all sensations, but it took you a while to notice that he was reaching to the coffee table in front of the sofa for the lotion already. As the cold liquid touched your skin you yelped, but he steadied you.

“Easy,” he said. “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you. Let me take care of my beautiful, good little girl.”

You felt your arms waver and you sank down, face first, onto the cushion. Each slow circle of his thumb and palm over your searingly hot skin felt like ice on a burn, and he took his time with you. Bresz used both hands, working up and down your legs, reassuring you all the while. Pride soared in your chest that you had succeeded. He had known your limits and taken you to them, supporting you all the way.

When he was satisfied that your skin was no longer aflame, he turned you gently over and rested you on your side with your head in his lap. He stroked your hair and gazed adoringly at you with glassy eyes. As you settled and calmed, he leaned forwards again and picked up a large glass of water. “Here,” he murmured. “Drink some of this.”

You hadn’t realised how thirsty you’d become, and you allowed him to hold your head and cradle you softly while you drank gratefully.

Returning the nearly empty glass to him you hadn’t noticed that you had begun to shiver, and he frowned.

“You’re cold,” he said, looking down the length of your body and finding goosebumps prickling your thighs and arms. “You should have said something…”

“I didn’t really notice,” you admitted. It felt so nice to be lying in his lap, feeling small and sheltered after the euphoria had settled down to a pleasant, all-pervasive hum.

He frowned and carried you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. He pulled out a clean hoodie - one of his kick-boxing ones - and asked you to put it on. You snuggled into it and he cupped your cheek in his hand. “You look so tiny in that,” he said. “It’s just swallowed you up…”

The two of you cuddled together for a long time, just sitting on his bed, enjoying each other’s steady presence.

By the end of the afternoon, you were beginning to resurface, and while you were honestly exhausted, it was the perfect kind of tired. Bresz seemed tired too, and you both wound down together, curled up on the sofa.

“Do you want to put your own clothes on now?” he asked by way of signalling that he was ready to end it.

“Maybe let me get some underwear and my pyjama trousers on…” you said.

“I’ll get them for you. You stay there.”

When he came back, he too had a shirt on, and while you would always relish the opportunity to stare at his naked body, it felt right that you should both get changed.

“Are you alight?” he asked when you’d got a few more clothes on besides the hoodie. “Do you need anything?”

“Just a cuddle,” you said, and he tugged you gently into his lap. “And maybe some food? You?”

“Mmm, a cuddle,” he smiled back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And I’ll order some pizza. I think we earned it, don’t you?”

You nodded.

He turned the TV on and ordered. When the food arrived, he didn’t feed you, and you both enjoyed the quiet closeness. You were ravenous, and ate much more than you would normally have done. When you said as much, he laughed. “You worked really hard for me today,” he said. “And maybe I don’t want to do this all the time, but… I have to say this has been one of the best weekends I’ve ever had with you.”

“Mmm, I had fun too. I think I actually needed that.”

The light of the TV flickered, but you ignored whatever was on and let yourself be lulled into a warm, cosy, full-bellied sleep. You didn’t remember being carried to bed or tucked in, but you stirred in the middle of the night to find Bresz wrapped tightly around your body, like a protective outer shell.

His breathing was deep, even, and steady, and his arm was curled around your waist. He shifted slightly and, impossibly, pulled you even closer to him, mumbling something soft in orcish. You would have to ask him what that particular word meant in the morning. At that moment, you knew you had never been more comfortable in your whole life, and with that thought, you drifted back to a dreamless sleep.

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I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did, don’t forget to leave a like on it, and reblogs are always welcome.

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#orc #exophilia #d/s #d/s exophilia #dom/sub #orc dom #male orc dom #male dom #female sub #commission #writing commission #exophilia writing #orc x reader #male orc x female reader #male monster #female reader

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insfiringyou · 5 years

Text

BTS - ‘Can we work out together more often?’ (Jungkook x Young-soon)

Contains: Smut. Fluff. Slight angst. Oral sex. 69. Vaginal sex. Anal play.

This takes place around 6 months after Young-soon finds out Jungkook cheated on her (but before Jin’s wedding).

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here:

RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook

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Jungkook took a quick glance at Young-soon as she walked around the room, her reflection bouncing back several times through the line of mirrors which adorned one wall. The grey gym shirt she wore clung attractively to her curves, stopping just below her visible cleavage and above her toned stomach. Her baggy pants were likewise low-riding, stopping just above her hipbones. His brown eyes dipped for a fraction of a second to her bellybutton before he forced himself to look away.

The last time she had visited his new apartment, the week before, the sex had been slow and uncomfortably tense. He had been desperate to feel some warmth in her actions and had pressed his lips to her chest as he thrust into her gently, trailing them along her neck until he reached the sharp line of her jaw. He wanted to touch his mouth to hers, to show her how he felt about her with something other than his cock, but her face was turned away; her soft, pleasured cries and the firm, reassuring grasp of her arms around his shoulders the only indicator that she was enjoying this. But at least they were having sex again. She hadn’t kissed him until the end, when his body shook against hers with his rough, drawn-out orgasm. It was brief but passionate and filled him with hope that things could get better.

Circling the room, Young-soon didn’t seem to notice his awkward glances at her body, instead eyeing up the equipment which lined the room. “There’s a lot more variety than at my gym…” She brushed her hand over the handle of the static bicycle before turning to meet his gaze. He had moved into the new apartment the month before but, until this day, she had not ventured into the gym.

“Is that why you quit?” He asked with curiosity, a shy smile tugging on his lips.

She shook her head. “The new trainer is a bit creepy.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. An expected wave of concern washed over him which he tried to ignore. He was certain she could take care of herself, but the thought of another man coming onto her made him frustratingly jealous. Furthermore, he wasn’t sure whether this stab of emotion was warranted or even wanted since he was not sure whether he and Young-soon were officially together. The last six months had been agonisingly difficult but he knew he didn’t have a right to complain, after all, it was his entire fault. Sex or no sex, she had not yet indicated that she had forgiven him. Jungkook tried to shake his trail of thought and nodded towards one of the new machines in the corner of the room. “Did you want to go on the cross-trainer?” He asked.

“We should stretch first.” She moved into the centre of the room where a row of soft mats had been placed for this purpose.

“Shall I put some music on?” He offered, walking over to the inbuilt stereo and selecting a track at random from his workout playlist. The opening of 7 Rings blared through the speakers, making her jump. With an apologetic smile, he turned down the volume and joined her on the mats, stretching his calves with the support of his hands, one at a time. He tried to focus on himself, but his eyes slipped over to the mirror in front of them where he met her gaze briefly before flicking once more to the tops of her breasts. She was bending forward, massaging her thighs in kneading motions to loosen up the muscles and the action caused her shirt to ride down a little. If she noticed him looking, she didn’t say anything, instead straightening up and walking over to the cross-trainer. He followed her and climbed on the matching machine beside it.

She smirked. “Why do you have two of everything?”

“I only have one treadmill…” He argued softly as they warmed up. He noticed she was trying her best to keep up with him and subconsciously pushed himself harder, speeding up. “Sometimes my trainer comes over.” He explained.

They carried on for ten minutes in almost silence until she finally slowed down and stepped off the pedals. Jungkook slid off beside her and fetched their water bottles from the other side of the room, taking a large gulp of his own. When he turned, he noticed her struggling with the shoelace of her sneaker which had gotten caught in one of the pedals and he helped unravel her, bending down when it was done to tie the shoe back up for her. She thanked him quietly with a small smile before taking a few sips from her bottle; her chest shone with perspiration, a few beads of sweat collecting between her breasts. They headed towards the rowing machines and sat down.

“It’s not a competition.” She warned, raising an eyebrow at him as he grasped the handle.

“Oh…” He murmured with a blush. “I didn’t realise. Do you want me to keep time with you?” He offered.

She smirked. “It’ll be easier than keeping time with you.” She slid her sneakers into the foot-holes and leaned forward. “I’ll pull my triceps.” She said as an afterthought as he adjusted the settings on his machine to increase the resistance. They pulled in time, listening to the whirr of the cogs as they straightened up.

He attempted to make conversation. “How’s your assistant at work?” He asked casually, glancing sideways.

“Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “It’s hard being new.”

“She’s not new anymore.” She argued lightly. “She’s been there for six months.”

“Is she still making mistakes?”

“All the time…” She sighed, catching his sympathetic expression. “You’re right, it’s hard being new.” She admitted, realising as she said it that she had perhaps been too hard on the girl who was both young and inexperienced. She unhooked her shoes from the pedals and moved to the setting wheel, pushing the catch to a higher number before returning to her position.

“Too easy?” He asked with a grin.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to try mine?” He flashed his teeth and she laughed, moving off the machine to swap places. She noticed his dial was turned up to the highest setting and, when she pulled, the belt resisted painfully. She let out a loud, dramatic groan as she sat up, straightening her spine with some effort.

“Show off…” She murmured, making him laugh as they switched back. He had put the settings slightly higher on hers, challenging her.

“Is that okay?” He asked, watching as she tested the weight.

“Yeah.” She murmured, feeling the satisfying ache in her upper arms and the drip of sweat on her lower back as she pulled back and forth. Jungkook, beside her, had finally started to perspire a little and he groaned with each backward pull. They both looked tired as they paused their motions but, determined to push through, Young-soon looked around the space at the variety of equipment.

“What now?” Jungkook asked, sensing she was not yet done.

She spotted the oversized red gloves hanging by the line of mirrors. “Boxing?” She suggested with a small smile, slipping them on before he had time to reply.

“I’m not going to hit you…” He said timidly.

She shrugged teasingly and handed him a set of cushioned paddles. “I need to learn how to throw a punch.”

“Why?” He frowned, suddenly remembering the unfortunate incident which had happened on their first date after they had left the funfair. Had it really been over a year since they had met?

“It might come in handy.” She explained.

“Okay…” He agreed, seeing that it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Not after how close she had come to getting seriously hurt that night. He unfastened the Velcro straps and fixed the paddles to his palms, holding them outstretched at arm’s length. “Don’t go easy on me.” He smiled.

“I won’t.”

She started to pant with exhaustion as she realised Jungkook was not letting up on the pace of his counts.

“One two, one two, one two…” He called rhythmically as she punched with as much energy as she could muster. “You can go harder.” He offered with a small, toothy grin. “One, two, one two…”

She grunted, pushing herself as hard as she could go, ignoring the drips of sweat that poured from her face into the crevices of her clothes.

“Don’t give up…” He warned.

“I’m not.” She protested with a groan, her teeth bared and gritting together like a wild animal. Her long, dark hair clung damply to her forehead, the ends of her ponytail stuck to the skin between her exposed shoulder blades as she hit with as much might as she could muster, feeling frustrated with both herself and the man opposite her when he did not move back with the force.

“Keep going…” He seemed to be enjoying this, which only made her angrier. She moved forward, breaking the stance she had kept for the past fifteen minutes in an attempt to push him back. She felt the hot sting of sweat in her eyes as it dripped from her furrowed brow and blinked it away, unable to see clearly as her glove slipped over the edge of the paddle and connected with something hard on the other end.

“Ah!” Jungkook cried out, taking a leap back as she staggered forwards awkwardly, ripping off the gloves and smoothing the stringy strands of wet hair away from her face. She realised what had happened and felt her chest drop.

“Was that intentional?” Jungkook asked in a muffled tone, his voice obscured by the hand which covered his nose. He had dropped both paddles to the floor and was crouched over, his face level with her torso.

“I’m sorry…” She called out weakly. “I slipped.” She continued to pant, out of breath and unable to move, horrified at the thought of hurting him.

“It’s okay…” He murmured softly, his face scrunched up in pain as he moved his hand away from the bridge of his nose, being careful not to bash it again. She felt a wave of relief flood through her when she saw he was not bleeding. “I deserved it.” He winced apologetically.

It took her a moment to work out what he was trying to say, realising that he was referring to what had happened over half a year before. Her breath finally slowed as she looked down at him. His eyes were dark.

“Yes…you do.” She admitted blankly, feeling her chest ache as she said it. His eyes had started to water; an aftereffect of the blow, and she sighed deeply. “Let’s take a look.” She murmured gently, taking a step forward and holding out her hand, meaning to touch his shoulder. Instead, his hand flew to her arm, curling gently around her wrist as he slipped a foot under her leg, unbalancing her and wrestling her to the floor. The mat was soft beneath her damp back and her ponytail fanned around her face as he crawled on top of her, pinning her to the ground with his fleshy thighs. She starred at him in surprise, her breath hot and heavy against his face as he met her gaze, his face inches from hers, waiting to see if she would protest. His palms were warm against her skin but his touch was light and she was sure she could wriggle from his grasp if she wanted.

“That was uncalled for.” She said breathlessly, her voice stern. His scent seeped attractively from his pores; the woody scent of his deodorant mixed with the bitter, cocoa aftershave he wore and, beneath that, the not-unpleasant scent of his sweat and something else; something which smelled like arousal and desire.

He hesitated. “What are you going to do about it?” He eventually asked, the warmth of his breath against her cheeks making her skin tingle pleasantly. She was unable to read the tone of his voice and, before she had time to think through his meaning, she was leaning forward, raising her head to open her lips passionately against his. It took him a moment to realise what was she doing before he pressed against her, resting his weight on his forearms as he sank into her touch. He let go of her wrists and her fingers found themselves tangled in his hair, smoothing and tugging his damp locks roughly as she moaned into his mouth, biting his lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. He groaned, unable to help it as his hips jolted against her; the feel of her body against his crotch causing him to stir in his pants.

Their tongues met heatedly and she grasped his waist tightly, using all of her strength to maneuver him onto his back. She clasped her thighs around him, needing to spread them wide to sit comfortably. Momentarily breaking their kiss, he let out a gasp before pulling her snugly against him. She felt his palms on her backside, grasping her arse roughly through her jogging pants before placing a hard spank on one side. The sound echoed around the paneled room, merging with the low beat of pop music which played through the speakers. She let out a surprised moan at the sensation of him dragging the fabric, along with the elastic of her underwear, down her hips and she pulled away from his wet mouth to lift her lower body, allowing them to collect around her thighs. She was already soaking when she settled against him, her uncovered pussy warm against his crotch. Jungkook commented on this, pushing his fingers through her folds and over the slick swell of her clitoris.

“You’re really wet…” He moaned, sliding his digits back and forth against her before angling them upwards, against her opening. She automatically leaned back as he sank three fingers in with ease, pressing them deep against her walls and filling her up. She groaned as they skimmed her G-spot and snapped her head back as he stretched her.

She allowed him to ease her onto her back, grateful for the gym mats which cushioned her body as he hooked his fingers under the frilly hem of her underwear, pulling them the rest of the way down along with her joggers and slipping them over her sneakers. He looked at her hungrily, spreading her legs by the calves to expose her flushed labia before dragging her body easily towards him on the mat. With a small pant, he lifted her lower body from the floor, placing her thighs across his shoulders as he buried his head in her sex and opened his mouth wetly against her pink folds.

She opened her mouth in a silent moan, her voice caught in her throat as he ran his tongue along her exposed core, his lips massaging her and pulling her closer.

“Does it taste good?” She managed to croak as he ran his tongue across her clitoris.

He didn’t reply, instead nestling himself deeper and pressing his lips tightly against her.

“Fuck!” She exclaimed breathlessly, scrunching her eyes shut. She didn’t think he had ever made her feel this good. “Put your tongue in me Jungkook…” She groaned, letting out a loud gasp a moment later when he complied and pushed into her opening as deeply as he could. He slowly lowered her to the floor, holding up her thighs as he followed her; his lips never breaking contact. Being careful not to hit him with her sneakers, she wrapped her calves around his neck, holding him tight as he let go of her thighs. She leaned forward and brushed his slightly curly hair from his damp forehead, the rest of his features lost from view.

“I like your hair long…” She murmured sweetly, not knowing whether he would hear her.

“What?” He asked breathlessly as he pulled away. His lips glistened with her arousal.

“Nothing.” She shook her head softly and grasped the edge of his oversized t-shirt, pulling him to her. He slid between her parted legs and met her kiss with a moan. She tasted her saltiness on his skin as her tongue met his frantically, showing her appreciation. His palm moved to the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, holding her against him. Eventually, she pulled away, hoping to return the favour.

He watched with parted, rosy lips as she encouraged him onto his back and turned around, straddling him in reverse. He couldn’t help but grasp the backs of her thighs as she untied his tightly looped drawstring and slid him over the elasticated edge of his pants. As expected, he was already hard when she firmly squeezed his length, jerking him once, slowly, before wrapping her lips around him. He let out a cry at the sensation of his swollen tip brushing the warm ring of her throat, her lips tight against his balls as she deepthroated him.

Despite her arousal, she took care to keep her weight on her knees but the scent and close proximity of her was driving him crazy and with a moan, he spread her cheeks apart with both hands and captured her clitoris between his lips. He sucked a little roughly and rocked her hips, encouraging her to ride his face.

After a moment, she let him go, holding his cock against her flushed cheek. “Is this too much?” She whispered, knowing if she wasn’t careful he was apt to over boil with little warning.

He shook his head against her body, breaking contact with her bud to moan. “Keep going…”

She smiled though he couldn’t see it, and took him back in, creating a tight suction with her cheeks as she bobbed up and down, wanting to make him feel as good as he was making her feel. He grew increasingly gaspy as he moved his palms from her backside and reached around to cup her breasts. She hummed around him in approval, making his cock twitch deliciously as he slipped his digits beneath the bust of her stretchy top and dragged the fabric down over her nipples. His thumbs brushed over the hard peaks, massaging her slick breasts firmly and pulling away from the slit between her thighs to take a much-needed gasp of air.

Hungrily, she moved from him, turning to face him and they locked eyes, their mutual desire obvious.

“Do you want me to get a condom?” He asked, catching his breath as his eyes roamed over her breasts; the tight fabric beneath pushing them up firmly. His caution was not unwarranted; she had insisted on him wearing one on the two previous occasions they had fucked, ever since his accident at the party.

“Where are they?” She asked.

“In the bathroom.”

She hesitated, before shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter…”

While the sentiment was not particularly romantic, Jungkook’s stomach grew pleasantly warm at the implication and he slipped his joggers and underwear from his legs before encouraging her onto his lap. She wrapped her legs around his hips, kissing him deeply and clutching his back with splayed fingers as they rocked together; the very tip of his cock pushing into her. His hands found her breasts and squeezed them together. They moaned in unison as their lips parted and she watched as his gaze once more fell to her chest. She squeezed her arms together, accentuating her bust.

“Put them in your mouth…” She whispered and he groaned at her request, moving his head to her chest to take a nipple between his open lips. She cradled his head in her arms and watched him suckle her, his mouth opening and closing against the pink buds as he alternated between them. He felt her reach between their thighs and adjust her hips as she guided him inside her completely.

“God that’s deep!” She cried out, momentarily closing her eyes in ecstasy as her warm cunt enveloped his length and thickness. Letting her nipple go at the sound of her voice, he moved his lips to hers and kissed her deeply as he snapped his hips against her inner thighs. She pulled away to look at him, roaming her hands along his bare torso; grasping and grabbing at him a little desperately as she moved against him, slowing him down to set the pace.

“I forgot how hot you are.” She moaned breathily, her eyes trailing languidly along the parts of him she could see until she met his gaze.

“I’ll have to work harder…” He panted, holding her by the hips as she grinded against him. “To make sure you don’t forget.”

“You don’t need to work out more…” She protested weakly.

His eyes were soft as he looked at her beneath his thick, wavy bangs. “I meant I need to be a better boyfriend.”

She felt an unpleasant pang in her stomach. “Let’s not talk about this now.” She said softly, slowing her hips. “Can you take over?” She requested.

“How do you want it?” He asked quietly. “On top?”

She swallowed, clearing her raspy throat. “From behind.”

He looked at her for a moment and nodded as she moved from his lap, turning around to get on all fours and pushing off her sneakers with her toes. He followed slowly, taking a moment to admire the view of her backside and the way she was displayed to him; her flushed pussy pink and wet between her thighs. He hadn’t expected she would ever bare herself to him in this way again and he still wasn’t sure whether she truly trusted him, not after what he did to her, but he welcomed the fact she felt comfortable with him and that, at least, was something.

He spread apart her arse cheeks as he entered her, pushing his tip through her folds of skin with his teeth gritted in pleasure. He snapped his head back in pleasure once he was fully immersed and Young-soon watched him in one of the mirrors; her position giving her the perfect view of his reflected expression as he kneaded the skin on her backside; digging in his fingertips with each thrust. She loved how his features scrunched up, how his mouth lulled open when he groaned and how gorgeous he looked fucking her. It was exciting to be able to watch and, when his eyelids finally opened, her heart stuttered as they made eye contact in the mirror.

“Finger me…” She whispered breathlessly as his hands moved to her waist.

He looked down, breaking his gaze and she felt him press his fingers against her taken cunt, brushing his cock as he tried to slip them in, filling her up.

“Not there.” She prompted.

He paused tentatively. “Are you sure?” He asked quietly, a little shocked by her request. It had been a long time.

She gasped. “Just do it.”

Slowly, he withdrew his digits and she watched his reflection as he raised them to his lips, sucking his fore and middle finger to coat them in saliva. He adjusted his hips, pulling half-way out of her and she whined loudly at the contact as the head of his cock brushed her tender inner walls, hitting the perfect spot.

He smiled bemusedly. “I haven’t touched you yet.”

“I can see that…” She smirked, making a point of showing him she was watching in the mirror as he moved his fingers back to the crevice between her cheeks and rubbed along the tight ring of her other opening. Unable to maintain eye contact in her pleasure, she closed her eyes as he circled the pucker and slowly pushed in his index finger. He watched her expression as her mouth opened in a gasp before dropping her head down. Gently, he pulled out to add his middle finger, hooking both digits in an upwards motion, his hand pressing closely to the curves of her body.

“How’s that?” He whispered.

“Sensitive.”

“I’ll be careful.” He promised.

She nodded, knowing he would and taking a moment to get used to the sensation of being filled twice as he massaged her gently, his hips utterly still until she pleaded.

“Fuck me Jungkook.”

Keeping his fingers inside her, he gently moved his body with hers, using his other palm to stroke her waist and hips as he increased pace. They rocked together, taking little glances at the mirror as he grew breathier; his brow sheening with perspiration at the sight of her breasts moving with momentum with each thrust of his hips; her hard nipples poking over the top of her tight, cropped shirt.

“Are you gonna cum?” She eventually asked, sensing he was close when she observed his eyes, bolted shut.

“Yeah…” He confirmed, letting out a long sigh.

“Here…” She uttered, crawling forward frantically and spinning around. He cried out as his cock and fingers slipped from her. “On my tongue…” She finished, sitting on her knees and opening her mouth to expose her pink tongue.

He didn’t have time to think and instead, intuitively, grasped his erection and jerked himself roughly. As his seed hit her outstretched tongue she let out a moan and kept still as it spilled messily from the tip of his cock. He had a lot to give and his aim became more unsteady as his hand trembled; dripping himself onto her face and bare breasts. She watched his brow furrow and mouth open as he climaxed, his expression strained and utterly gorgeous. It soon smoothed out as he finished and she swallowed, wiping the sides of her mouth in a lady-like manner to taste him.

“I’m sorry…” He panted apologetically, looking down at the mess he had made on her. “I couldn’t help it.”

She shook her head with a small smile. “Don’t worry about it.” She murmured.

His chest ached pleasantly at her reply, remembering how uncomfortably forced, on both their parts, their last two attempts at having sex had been. He knew she must be feeling just as exhausted as him and suddenly felt guilty at the realisation she would likely be in pain tomorrow from the intense workout, both before and during the sex. There was a momentary feeling of relief, however, at having burnt so much energy, his body rushing with endorphins.

“Can I put this in the washer?” She asked, gesturing to her ruined shirt. The swell of her large breasts glistened attractively above the hem; his ejaculate pearl-like against her fawn coloured skin and pink nipples.

He nodded as she stood up and peeled the fabric from her body. “Do you want to borrow a shirt?” He asked, unable to stop his eyes from roaming over her completely nude form, from her long legs to the shapely curves of her wide hips, hovering slightly on the waxed space between her thighs before once more admiring the beautiful, teardrop shape of her breasts.

She met his gaze and smirked. “What?”

He flashed a timid grin and it seemed to her, at that moment, he was glowing in the aftermath of his orgasm.“Can we work out together more often?”

The line could have come off as cheesy, but she sensed he was being sincere. Her lips turned up at the corners as she folded her shirt. “We’ll see.”

“Are you sure you have to go?” He asked, remembering that when he picked her up from her apartment in the early afternoon she had mentioned getting a lift back before it got too late.

“Yeah.” She hesitated, a little unconvincingly. “I need to iron my work clothes for tomorrow.”

“I could drop you off in the morning.” He offered, suddenly desperate for her to stay.

She bridged the gap between them and pressed her lips, a little apologetically, against his warm cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow after work…” She said, making his heart sink. While they had a casual date planned for the next day, it suddenly seemed apparent that there was still a gap between them...something he had stupidly caused half a year before. While their tryst today had been mind-blowing for him and, he was certain, intensely pleasurable for her too, it was not enough to repair what damage he had caused.

“You’re still okay to pick me up aren’t you?” She asked as he placed his hand gently on her naked waist.

“Yeah…are you still okay for the restaurant?” He asked.

She smiled sweetly. “Yeah. It’ll be nice.” She turned around and began to head towards the door. “Do you want to shower first?”

He had hoped she would want to shower together, but tried not to seem too defeated. “There’s another one in the en-suite.” He explained.

“Even better.” She said, holding open the door as he caught up with her.

“I’ll go get you a shirt.”

***

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snapthistiger · 8 months

Text

exercise 02022024

bike ride to the gym

3 x 10 lat pull

3 x 5 dips

3 x 10 tricep press

3 x 10 row

30 minutes on the step mill

the gym workers received Hershey kisses

checked on my Mom after the gym. she was sleeping. visited with the sitter

bought groceries at Kroger after lunch

top left = cool clouds looked like rolling waves

middle = Peanuts by the side of the road

bottom = someone lost their long underwear

another day of gorgeous weather. Peanut and i spending time outside to enjoy the spring like conditions

i tried uploading my ~30 second January recap video to tumblr but the process stops and will not finish. i did put the recap video on instagram without any issues

Happy Friday!

hope you have a peaceful afternoon and evening..

#fitblr #exercise #rfm

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deadlifts-and-derrida · 5 years

Text

Learning to Grow

There's a scene in the 90's animated Spider-Man where Eddie Brock, the human host of the Venom symbiote, is lifting weights in his run-down New York apartment. He's shirtless, bench pressing what looks like an impressive weight. The camera runs over his arms and torso as he recites, between grunts, a litany of wrongs, imagined and real, that Spider-Man has visited upon him. There are brief flashbacks with each item on the list, played out semi-opaque in front of his sweaty muscular torso. As each one fades and we see him clear, his muscles appear to pulse and swell. He's getting bigger and bigger as the scene goes on, muscles engorging with each repetition, each up and down of the loaded bar he's bench-pressing.

This scene captivated me as a child. Any time this episode came up in re-runs I'd be glued to the TV, would find some excuse to go into another room and sneakily turn on a separate television, away from my family, even if it meant watching it on a smaller, less modern set.

I knew I loved muscle before I saw this scene. I even doubt this was the first time I saw a depiction of where muscles came from. This first aired in 1994. I would have been 11. Surely I knew muscles came from working out before I saw this. But it felt like some previously unconnected parts of my brain were suddenly wired together.

If you want to have muscles you have to lift weights!

My mom had two blue dumbbells at home. I think she bought them to use at the Step Aerobics class she went to every Thursday night in the gymnasium of the local elementary school, the same school I attended. They were 5 lbs each. I'm sure they would look small to me now. They looked big to me then.

They came with a folded up paper diagram of exercises you could do with the dumbbells. It featured a line drawing of an absurdly muscular man (these are FIVE POUND DUMBBELLS and he looks like a professional bodybuilder!), shirtless, wearing a pair of short shorts. Of course I was attracted to this line drawing. But I remember taking these little blue dumbbells and trying to use them to get bigger and stronger. I tried to use the piano bench to do chest flies. I did lots of bicep curls. I don't think I ever did anything for my back and my legs - classic clueless young man, only exercising the muscles he can see, the ones that look good in a t-shirt.

I didn't go about this in any regimented fashion. They were sporadic attempts. I didn't yet realize how frequently you had to work out to see results. I didn't realize how to organize a weightlifting session at the gym, how to program it to achieve hypertrophy (or, in lay terms, bigger muscles). I thought of it like it was a role-playing game, like if you lifted weights you'd add a little EXP to your STR bar, and eventually it'd level up even if you weren't systematic about it.

So of course I don't think mom's two blue 5 lbs dumbbells did much for me.

There was no commercial or public gym in my hometown, nor one within a 100 km drive. There were some private gyms, in people's basements and such. My little hometown, which had about 5,000 people living in it when I was in my early teens, somehow produced four provincial bodybuilding champions to my knowledge, including Newfoundland's only internationally successful professional bodybuilder to date. Fewer than 1% of the province's population. We certainly over-performed in this aspect.

And then there was me. Absolutely nothing to look at. But burning with a desire that I felt ashamed of, felt like I should keep it hidden. Bodybuilding was all around me and I didn't say anything, didn't give any indication that it interested me. Two of those four provincial champions were my next-door neighbours, one of them a year older than me, one of them a year younger than me. It never occured to me to even try to train with them.

I was an awkward nerd. I knew I was gay. I hadn't told anyone. But bullies called me every word you can call a gay kid, because, well, they were bullies.

So I didn't connect with the budding bodybuilders around me. I never lifted in one of the basements where so many successful bodybuilding careers began.

I did pushups sporadically in my bedroom and hoped it would be enough.

Of course it wasn't. Forcing the body to build more metabolically expensive muscle tissue than it absolutely needs is one of the most difficult things to do. A few pushups in your bedroom and a protein-poor diet (I was vegetarian but I wasn't one of the "good kind" who research proper diet) won't cut it.

In my second term at University, the Field House opened. This was a new athletic facility. There was some controversy in student circles that we were all being levied a $40/semester fee to pay for the Field House - but in return, we all had access to the facility. We just had to show our student card.

Stress, bad eating, and a post-exam bout of mononucleosis had left me about 145 lbs at this point. I'm 6' tall. There was no muscle on me to speak of - though skinny, I had no abs, no definition in my arms and legs. My arms measured 10" around.

So, although all my leftist friends were angry about the Field House levy, I was secretly happy about it. Finally, I had access to a gym.

I didn't research what to do. I didn't ask for help in making a plan.

For weeks, I went in and ran on the treadmill.

I remember an article by another gay writer about body image, muscles, and exercise. He describes running on the treadmill while dreaming of himself as finally having that muscular body he's long wanted to have.

Now, I want to give the guy a shake and ask him what the hell he's doing on a treadmill if he wants muscles. That's like practicing piano and hoping it'll make you a better cook. But back then - I was that guy.

There was a little alcove in the Field House next to the cardio room that had some air-powered resistance machines. I started to use those. I doubt I used them well. No one taught me form. I didn't look it up. This was 2002 - YouTube, a great resource for this kind of thing, was years away.

But it was better than nothing. My diet, still appalling and low in protein, did get a little better as my palate expanded and I learned, on a semester in England in 2003, that I liked and could prepare chicken and fish.

My arms were 12" around. This is still small. It's nowhere near Eddie Brock. But it's better than 10".

I was like a timid deer slowly being tamed. Toward the end of my undergraduate degree, I began going to the Strength and Conditioning Centre, in the basement of the old Phys Ed building, where the actual lifters and bodybuilders on campus went.

But I was not yet either of those things.

I was still ashamed of my desires, couldn't bring myself to ask anyone for help, to acquire the practical knowledge I needed if I was ever going to achieve the kind of progress I wanted.

So even though there was a freeweight section full of huge burly men lifting impressive weights, I kept to the machines and the dumbbells. Lateral raises (probably done badly), cable flies (probably done badly), tricep pushdowns (probably done badly), dips and pullups (almost certainly done badly), lat pulldowns (I only ever felt these in my forearms). I never did a bench press. I never did a squat. I don't think I even knew what a deadlift was.

I ate like I was lifting big weights and having gruelling workouts, though. So, in other words, I got chubby and my muscles more or less stayed the same, after those newbie gains earned in the alcove of the Field House with the air-powered machines. I did not look like I lifted weights. I certainly didn't look like a bodybuilder.

My mid and late 20s were full of periods where I had no gym access. I ran during those times, every second day. I got fitter, my body firmed up, I felt better. I was also physically suited to middle distance running. But I was smaller, during those times, and I wanted to be bigger.

When I did have gym access I continued to lift poorly, without doing any compound movements (bench, squat, deadlift, overhead press, etc). And I ate to grow, but it was a lot of low quality food. So, during those times, my body got softer. I told myself I was bulking, but my muscles didn't get bigger. My arms were still about 12" or 13", depending on which of these two modes I was existing in.

I still lived in dread of someone discovering how much I wanted to be a huge muscular freak. How I fed my imagination on a steady diet of enormous bodybuilders, folders with thousands of jpgs saved from the internet, treasured memories of the rare times I'd seen a truly huge muscular man out in the wild, in person. Walking in the mall, lying on a blanket in the park, in the checkout line at the supermarket.

I would sometimes fantasize about finding some almost empty bottle of steroids in the locker room. Maybe just one or two pills left. At the time I erroneously thought all steroids were pills - I didn't know anything about steroids at all, at this point. I just knew they made guys big. In this fantasy, I would take the one or two pills I found, and it would make me slightly more muscular than I was. Perhaps 5% more. And that would be enough to make me happy without anyone realizing anything. Of course, it doesn't work that way.

I wasn't entirely clueless. In 2009, I started a PhD at the University of Toronto, and had access to its excellent gym facilities. By then I knew I had to do compound movements like bench press and squat. I started to learn how. I didn't seek out help, though, and I definitely should have. Also, a PhD is very demanding on your time. I was following a "split" (how you organize your workouts through the week) appropriate for someone lifting 4-5 times a week, but I was lucky if I got in 2 or 3 times (which, frankly, isn't enough to see much progress regardless of your "split"). 10 or 12 days would go by between chest workouts, between back workouts, between leg workouts.

I suppose I made some progress. Not much. I may have deluded myself into thinking it was more than it was, because I had been going to the gym, in some capacity, for 7 years, and I wanted to have something to show for it.

In early 2012, me and my then-boyfriend drove to his father's in South Carolina. I had just turned 29. I was planning on using the fact we were traveling to buy steroids online. I was paranoid that my IP address could be tracked if I did it at home and it would be safer to do it from some hotel room in Pennsylvania.

I realized, when in a hotel room in Pennsylvania trying to buy steroids online, that I didn't know enough about any of that to actually go through with it. I hadn't done my research. Looking back, my naivete is laughable. Now, if I encountered someone like the person I used to be trying to buy steroids, I would try my best to discourage them for a large number of reasons. One, you, past Michael, clearly don't know how to train and eat to grow; that being the case, all steroids will do is upset your endocrine system's natural balance and increase some health risks without actually giving you the benefits you want. Secondly, you don't know a thing about them. What kind are you going to buy? The answer better be testosterone enanthate or testosterone cypionate; test only for a beginner's cycle. Do you know proper injection technique? Don't even think about an oral-only cycle! Do you know what an AI is? It's an aromatase inhibitor, a drug that prevents most of the negative side effects people associate with steroid use, which ironically come from elevated estrogen, a side effect of elevated tesoterone - you did know that, didn't you? Do you know what PCT is? It's Post Cycle Therapy, drugs people take once they have finished their cycle of steroids to help restart their body's natural hormone production, which is disrupted by steroids. You knew steroids would shut down your natural testosterone production, right?

Luckily, I realized I wasn't ready, and didn't go through with my plan. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, did I think I could just type "buy steroids" into google? OK, yes, you can actually do that, but it's not a good idea. There are plenty of people out there willing to make a quick buck selling snake oil to idiots like me, and even if they sold me legitimate gear, I wasn't ready for it and had no idea how to use it safely and responsibly, as outlined above.

In January of 2013, my parents, always solidly middle class, suddenly became very wealthy, and they passed some of this on to me. I had never made more than $25,000 in a year, and suddenly twice that was sitting in my bank account, with more to come.

One of the things I splurged on was a DEXA scan. It cost $125. You lay still on the bed of a device, and a mechanical arm slowly passes over your whole body twice. It takes about ten minutes. it is the most accurate body composition scan currently available.

I wanted to know how well my efforts in the gym had paid off.

Not at all, it turned out.

I was 184 lbs. This was in the "normal" BMI range for someone 6' tall. But I was 25.1% bodyfat. For a man, obesity is considered anything over 25%. I was the opposite of a bodybuilder. Bodybuilders have obese BMI but very low bodyfat percentages. I had normal BMI but an obese bodyfat percentage.

My lean body mass was only 138 lbs. If I was lean like a bodybuilder, I wouldn't even weigh 150 lbs. I had been going to the gym for 11 years and I had almost nothing to show for it - maybe 10 or 15 lbs of muscle gained from the underfed just-over-a-bout-of-mono 19 year old who first stepped into a gym in 2002.

This was a kick in the pants. Luckily it motivated me. I reformed my diet. No more pizza and burritos except as very occasional treats. Cut way way way back on the booze. Running in the morning every second day, lifting weights every day I didn't run.

I got married in June. I weighed 170 lbs and my bodyfat was down to 19%. I was losing fat without losing muscle, possibly because there was very little muscle to lose.

We went on an extended summer wedding tour, had wedding parties on both coasts. I relaxed a little but didn't give up fully.

And that September, enabled by having some money, emboldened by finally achieving a little success, spurred on by turning 30 and realizing that if I didn't start to do this right then my dream of being a bodybuilder would never come to pass, I hired a trainer.

And on our first meeting, I told him: I want to get as big as I possibly can.

And he said let's get to work.

#me #writing #self #working out #bodybuilding

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anonthenullifier · 5 years

Note

You think Tommy and Billy would eventually ask Wanda about their Uncle who's picture they see on display?

Yes, they definitely would, probably sooner than Wanda would like. It could go something like this:

Wanda rounds the corner to find Vision’s legs dangling from the ceiling. With a shrug she sidesteps his calves, sending a whip of scarlet along the back of his knees as she keeps vacuuming, head bobbing along with her music. A few seconds go by before there’s an indistinguishable grumble in the periphery of her thoughts. Her hand inches up to remove her headphones as she turns towards her husband, “What was that?”

“They,” he aggressively points up where he had just been dangling, “need to get out of this house before they break all our furniture.”

Wanda glances up towards what sounds like a herd of elephants attempting ballet in a crowded antique store, “That’s why I’m just drowning it out,” an earbud waves limply through the air, “so long as they don’t need the ER, I say we leave them be.”

“We could go sledding—“

With a pointed, exaggerated turn Wanda faces the window, the snow whizzing by so quickly it looks like they installed a white curtain outside. “You really think we should go out in that?”

Vision draws his frustration in with a deep inhale and she can feel him mentally counting, a technique he never needed until a couple years ago when potty training the boys went sideways real fast. “No, but we need to find them something soon.” He doesn’t add in the or else they’ll break everything but it resides in the tired droop of his eyes. They’ve already watched a movie, played games, and attempted crafts, which went so successfully they are now cleaning to rid the house of every last speck of glitter in existence.

“Maybe once it slows down a bit we can head over to the compound and they can run around the training gym? ”

Finally Vision exhales, “I suppose that could work as long as we remove all weaponry and the road is drivable.”

Wanda flashes him a grin and slides her headphones back on, steps following the beat as she moves into the living room. This peacefulness, as always, is short lived, a “Mooommmm!” coming from upstairs that is stunningly clear even with her music. Scarlet forms around her phone, pausing the song as she waits to see if it’s a call of distress, anger, victimhood, or actual emergency. “Moommm!” It’s none of those options, this one a scream of discovery that goes along with a blue streak whizzing down the stairs, followed by the thudding of Billy’s slower run. “Mom! Mom! Look what I found!”

Wanda reaches out, her, “Let me see,” a little terrified since the last time he was this excited she found herself holding the curled up carcass of a cockroach.

Tommy hands over a non-bug like rectangle (thankfully), a beaming smile gracing his lips, always brimming with vim at finding something new to ask them about. “It was on your dresser.”

“How many times have we informed you to not climb on the dresser?” Vision’s stern voice is getting better, this one forceful enough that Tommy’s smile falters for a moment, though it doesn’t dissolve completely.

“It fell while Tommy was running.” Billy’s attempt at saving them from a scolding is admirable but not helpful.

Tommy puffs up his chest, chin lifting in redemption, “See dad, no climbing.”

“Perhaps we need to have a new discussion of the parameters of playing upstairs.” Wanda tries hard to keep her face impassive, never wanting the boys to see how entertaining she finds it when they go toe to toe with Vision since it would only lead to more insubordination. At the same time, the dresser is a much bigger sticking point to her husband than her, given she has fond memories of getting into trouble like this when she was a kid.

Just like Pietro, Tommy always knows how to weasel his way out of discussions about parameters, pointing at her hand with a, “Who is that?”

She looks down, having forgotten why the boys joined them, and all at once her lungs stop working, the impishness of her own twin’s face taking her in. “It’s um,” she’s mentioned Pietro to them before, in passing, never directly because she doesn’t know how to explain his absence, truthfully she’s never wanted to do so, going so far as to grieve each anniversary in quiet, waiting until the boys are asleep to curl into Vision’s arms.

“That is your late Uncle Pietro.” Vision tries to be helpful, she knows he means well, but his use of late wedges its sharp point into her scars.

Their sons share a look before Billy turns towards Vision, a discerning slant to his mouth, “When was he supposed to get here?”

“Oh, I, um,” Vision looks to her for guidance but she’s out of it, still trying desperately to control her own breathing. The explanation he offers is halting, each word fumbling along his tongue as it comes out. “Late, in this usage, deals with the concept of, um, death.”

Death they’ve talked about with the twins, as best they could, the questions starting around their fourth birthday when they watched the Lion King. Vision has read whole books on the matter, confidently informed her of how all they have to do is cover the subconcepts of death. Selfishly, it’s a minor relief to watch him freeze up, to see that even he doesn’t find these conversations easy. But there’s a difference in discussing why the cockroach isn’t coming back or why the flowers had to be thrown out or even why an animated lion cub is crying than why a person in a photograph isn’t going to come to dinner. Wanda struggles to clarify anything, offering a quiet, “He died a long time ago,” while her mind reminds her it’s been almost ten years even if right now it still feels like 12 days.

“How about we sit down?” her husband’s hand is gentle on her shoulder, guiding Wanda towards the couch, where she takes the right side, Vision the left, and the boys share the middle. Thankfully Vision reaches out along the top of the cushions, entangling his fingers with her own, rooting her to the present. “Do you recall what we have discussed about death?”

The atmosphere of the room dips to match what it must feel like outside, which is not too different from the bite of admonishment when Billy or Tommy have pushed too many buttons. Wanda hopes to quell the discomfort wrapping its bony arms around them, “You aren’t in trouble.”

Billy’s lips tighten into a grim determination, his thoughts flying past until he pulls something out. “Death is when things stop working,” nonfunctionality the first subconcept Vision read about, the one most easily grasped by young minds.

“Right, so Pietro’s,” Wanda struggles under the memory, the feel of his body tumbling and heart stopping just as strong today as it was a decade ago, “body stopped working a long time ago, while we were on a mission.”

Vision squeezes her hand and it helps, lifting her from the weightlessness of recollection. His attempt at explaining the concept further is also appreciated, “Once a body stops functioning, it cannot come back.” The statement is said as if it is an easy, uncomplicated topic, when in fact it is one even she and Vision have trouble talking about together, both of them having died at least once already and yet they are here and Pietro is not, the world a fickle, unforgiving place where the universality of death is muddled and contradictory. “So unfortunately, he will not be coming back.”

This deflates the room, neither of the boys willing to look at them, their still developing minds attempting to figure out what to do with this new piece of information, 5 far too young, at least to her, to grapple with these thoughts if it’s not necessary. Wanda tries to ease the conversation back towards the picture, answer the original question so they can think of better times. “Pietro was my twin,” this word perks them up, their eyes locking on to her as she hands the picture of her and Pietro back to Tommy, “he and I were just like the two of you, we did everything together, had the same birthday, got into a lot of trouble climbing on dressers. Pietro even had super speed, just like Tommy.”

Billy’s eyes slide to his twin, their hands having found each other at some point, “And Uncle Pietro will never come back?”

“No.” The way the boys look at each other, the whitening of their knuckles as they no doubt consider an existence alone, makes her want to tell them about souls and heaven, finding each other again, inform them that sometimes when the wind blows past her on a particularly gusty day, she wonders if it’s Pietro. But she isn’t sure if she actually believes all that and all the books and advice, all the conversations she and Vision have had about covering this topic with their children, all of it says to be direct at this age, that they are concrete thinkers too easily confused by abstractions of hope. Instead Wanda lets go of Vision’s hand and sinks into the couch, just enough for her to wrap her arm around Billy and Tommy’s backs, “But I still love him and I still think about him all the time. We all die eventually, so we just have to hold on to what made us happy and never forget each other.”

Even this might be too much for them, neither Billy nor Tommy responding, only Vision does anything, his fingers tracing her tricep. Then Tommy’s face knots up, “Does that mean you and dad will die too?”

Death is inevitable, sure, you might get a few deaths, but eventually there are no more loopholes, even for supposedly indestructible synthezoids and reality warping witches. So the easy answer is yes, yet it seems an awful response. Wanda meets Vision’s eyes over the brown and white curls separating them, begging him to figure out a good response because she can’t muster one. Vision phases downwards, bringing himself to the same level as the twins, and closes the open parenthesis of their hug, “We will, but your mother and I are very careful and do our best to remain safe. We plan to be with you for a very very long time.”

“Well that’s good then,” Tommy shrugs away his worry, returning to an earlier comment, “you said Uncle Pietro ran really fast?”

Wanda grins, relief washing over her now that the conversation is turning in a new direction, “Super fast.”

“Was he faster than me?”

If Pietro ever met another speedster, Wanda knows this is the first question he’d ask, “I don’t think you’re faster than him yet,” Tommy frowns, petulant in the face of any perceived loss, “but I think you will be eventually,” now he smiles and Wanda decides perhaps their afternoon can be spent in the past, so she begins to tell them all about Uncle Pietro, relieved, more than broken, at the way their laughter sounds so much like his.

#scarlet vision #wanda maximoff #vision #billy kaplan #tommy shepherd #pietro maximoff #the maximoffs #the vision #ask anon #mine #deathofink

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